


Cracks in This Reflection

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Invasion, Angst, Arguing, Forgiveness, Giant Alient Death Beetles, M/M, Missions, Oh no why are my babies fighting, POV Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sexual Content, Space Leeches, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trust Issues, Violence, alien possession, but we love him anyway, but we love him too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-17 17:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10598427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Five months after Siberia, an alien threat pulls Steve back to New York, and back to a very angry Tony.





	1. Imposter

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Трещины в отражении](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737900) by [Leshaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshaya/pseuds/Leshaya), [WTF_Superfamily_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Superfamily_2018/pseuds/WTF_Superfamily_2018)



> So many thank yous to ashes0909 and Hermit9 - extraordinary betas, co-conspirators, cheerleaders, and fellow gutter wallowers. <3

There were a lot of things to consider when deciding to punch someone. The sharp, unpleasant, shock to the knuckles, the dull throb in the wrist later. Whether they were likely to punch back, and if you could dodge it if they did.

If someone's life depended on it.

If the world depended on it.

So when Tony punched Steve in the face you could bet he'd thought it through, weighed the pros and cons and decided that the satisfaction of his fist connecting with those perfect teeth was worth the pain in his hand that would follow.

And he knew for a goddam fact that Steve wouldn't be punching back.

Actually, he took it like a champ, had to hand it to him. There was a moment of silence after, while Steve reached up and gently touched his jaw, pressing down where a bruise should have been forming, but wouldn't (damn super-soldier). But he didn't say anything, didn't glare, didn't even look at Tony. He glanced behind himself for a second and Tony realized that he was making sure no one was trying to make a move on Tony after that, which almost made him laugh. Of course he did.

“Tony,” Steve stated calmly, by way of greeting. A little less dramatic than Tony's greeting, but so was Steve. Unless he was protecting _From Russia With Scowl,_ then it was all drama queen, all the time.

Tony didn't say anything, just grabbed the soda-filled ice bucket off the side table, dumped the cans out and stuck his hand in it, sinking into a chair and throwing his feet up on the large conference table that filled the room. He should've thought to put on the Iron Man glove first. The ice felt good though.

“Okay,” Fury said tensely, leaning forward to rest his hands on the table. “Now that you kids have gotten the hellos out of the way, let's get down to business.”

Tony observed the room from behind his tinted sunglasses. Ross was looming grumpily behind Fury at the head of the table, clearly giving up the spotlight with all his usual deference and grace. Steve and Sam hovered uneasily by the door, leaving Tony alone in the middle. Tony was starting to wish he'd brought an entourage too - Vision or Rhodey looking all cool and calculating behind him.

He wasn't even sure why'd he come to this thing in the first place. For some unknown reason, he couldn't seem to ignore Fury's summons. Despite never working for the man in any kind of serious capacity, it would seem all he had to do was clap his hands and Tony would come like a freaking dog.

Steve looked ready to bolt any minute, which wasn't at all surprising, and it was giving Tony a bit of sick satisfaction. For once, if anyone was getting reamed out by the principal, it wouldn't be him.

Fury shot him a calculating look. “We know there've been some issues between you two, and we’re not forgetting what happened with the Accords, but between our organizations we have come to an agreement on one thing.” Fury glanced back at Secretary Ross's clenched jaw behind him. “We need your help, so we’re willing to shelve all that, temporarily.”

Fury reached out and tapped the tablet that lay on the table in front of him. It projected an image into the air and Steve stepped forward, opposite Tony, to get a better look. Sam stayed back, near the door, balancing Ross' scowl with one of his own.

It was clearly a map of Detroit, but it looked oddly twisted or distorted. Tony pulled his sunglasses off, dropped his feet to the floor, and leaned in to examine the map, feeling Steve do the same on the other side of the table.

“There's been an incident in Michigan,” Fury began, pointing to the map as he spoke. “Right here you can see the centre of the disturbance. This whole area is affected and it's growing.”

“What is it doing?” Steve asked. “Is it harmful?”

“We're not really sure.” Fury sat down again and tipped his chair back, tapping his fingertips together. “Luckily we were able to evacuate everyone before it spread too far, but that rate of expansion seems to be growing exponentially. We have a team looking into it, but they’re in way over their heads. The whole section is surrounded by a shield of some kind. Army teams have tried to cross through it, but it exerts tremendous force which a normal human is unable to withstand. There’s enough uncertainty that they would prefer a more in-depth analysis than they are able to get with their equipment.”

“I'm starting to see where you're going with this.” Tony raised an eyebrow at Fury.

“Good, then you're not as stupid as you look,” Fury snapped. Tony's eyes flicked up to Steve who was desperately trying not to smile and mostly failing. “You've got the suit” - Fury pointed at Tony - “you've got the super thing” - at Steve now. “No one else is available that can withstand this - and understand this - so we're tapping you in.”

Tony rapped his fingertips against the table. “Why should I?” he asked petulantly, wanting to get Fury's hackles up and maybe see if he could piss off Ross at the same time.

“Because you're _not_ as stupid as you look,” Fury repeated. “And if it keeps expanding it's going to hit New York, eventually.”

Tony shrugged, watching Ross's temperature rise and feeling Steve's self-righteous glare from across the table. “Whatever.” Tony stood. “There isn't anything good on HBO this week anyway. Forward the briefing to me. When do we leave?”

Fury glanced back at Ross who just continued to scowl. “We're sending a chopper to pick you up tomorrow at 1800.”

Tony pushed his chair back with a screech, placed the ice bucket on the table and swung his sunglasses back onto his face. “See you in Detroit, gentlemen.”

“Stark,” Fury called, bringing his exit to a halt. He pointed at Steve. “He's going with you.”

Steve and Tony both looked at Fury as one. “Like Hell he is,” Tony snapped back immediately.

Ross finally spoke up. “Rogers is not here and is not authorized to be here. This is an undercover mission and the fewer people who know about it, the better. We had enough trouble getting him in the country. The only safe place for him to stay is the compound. Take him with you, Stark, and shut up already.”

Steve and Sam tipped their heads together and spoke quietly for a moment, while Tony glared at Ross and once again wished he'd brought someone to have a secret tete-a-tete with.

After a moment, Steve straightened up. “Okay, fine. Sam is taking my bike back to the airport. I'll stay at the compound and I'll help you with...this.” He gestured uncertainly at the map that still projected above the table.

“What? I don't get a say in this?” Tony asked. Everyone ignored him. “Fine, what the fuck do I care.” He shoved open the door and made for the town car that Happy had been idling in the “15 minutes only” delivery zone for the past 2 hours. Steve caught up to Tony easily, and slid in after him without question.

They passed most of the ride in tense silence, each looking pointedly out their respective windows. When the Avengers compound pulled into view, Steve finally broke the silence.

“Does my keycard even still work?” he asked lightly, a hint of something gentle and humorous, but also tentative, teasing the edges of his words. Tony glanced thoughtfully at him and then picked up his phone and started to type. Steve sighed. “You're turning it off now aren't you?”

Tony resisted the urge to smile. “Just doing a security update, Cap. Wouldn't want undesirables sneaking into the compound.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Instead of revoking Steve's access, Tony flipped through his work email without reading a word. Being around Steve again was too weird. Steve seemed set on pretending there was nothing uncomfortable between them, but the tension was palpable. Tony had never responded to Steve's letter, or used the phone he had sent. The punch was the first contact they'd had in five months and the satisfaction of that was already starting to wear off.

Happy pulled into the garage and Tony and Steve hopped out. Tony fiddled with his keycard and tried not to look as awkward as he felt.

“Fury said you had to stay _at_ the compound. He didn't say I couldn't make you sleep in the garage.” Tony aimed for the verging-on-playful air they had in the car, afraid of delving into any other territory now that they were alone, but Steve just sighed heavily and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He suddenly looked so much older than the last time Tony had seen him. He was just a kid, really, despite what his birth certificate might say, but he had twice of Tony's life experience packed into half his lifetime. It was starting to show.

Steve looked up, and when he caught Tony staring at him, his brow furrowed either in confusion or displeasure, Tony wasn’t sure. He looked away quickly, but Steve just walked off, heading towards the door at the end of the hall that lead to the Avengers' rooms and common spaces – most of which had been empty for months now.

Steve didn't surface again that evening. FRIDAY informed Tony that he had used his keycard to get into his old room and hadn't left. Tony wondered fleetingly what Steve was eating but decided firmly that it wasn't his fucking problem. The less he saw him, the better.

**

The next morning Tony woke with a churning stomach and a crick in his neck. He skipped food entirely, just grabbed a black coffee and slunk down the hall. He turned the corner towards his office and caught Steve, back to him, leaning against Tony's desk. He had something in his hand and seemed completely absorbed by it.

“Enjoying your snooping?” Tony asked, breezing into the room. Steve started and dropped the object back into the desk drawer, sliding it shut quickly.

“I wasn't snooping,” Steve muttered, having the decency to look embarrassed. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, the top drawer of my desk is always a good place to start. It's where I take my afternoon nap.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered.

“Hey” - Tony waved a hand with mock deference - “mi casa es su casa, apparently. So, you know, help yourself. I have some top-secret technology down in the workshop, if you're into that kinda thing.”

Tony's sharp tone had Steve shuffling uneasily, but he pulled out his phone and Tony watched him scroll through Fury's briefing. “So, it looks like they want us to just go in and see if we can find the source, get some intel, get out. They don't want us doing any damage in case there's a risk of explosion.”

“Yeah, I can read,” Tony snapped, dropping into his chair.

Steve sighed. “I thought we might want to make a game plan.”

“Sounds like you already have one.”

“Tony.” Steve's voice was careful and his eyes wouldn't lift from his phone.

“Steven.”

“Look, I know you don't – This could be really dangerous and I just want to say I'm – “

Tony cut him off, smacking his hand on the table. “Are you seriously trying to apologize to me? What? You think I'm going to pants you when the evil aliens show up and leave you to fight them on your own? I'm not going to risk this mission just because I want to run you over with Dum-E repeatedly, so don't come in here trying for a last minute apology. I'm a goddamn adult, so fuck right off with that.”

Steve finally met Tony's eyes. “I am sorry though.”

“Oh yeah? You're sorry.” Tony chuckled without humour. “For what? For beating me half to death and abandoning me in Siberia? Or maybe for lying to me about what really happened to my parents? Was is that one? Or for breaking up the Avengers because your high school sweetheart went on a murder rampage? Face it, Steve, our little 'family' is broken – you broke it – and no amount of Captain America band-aids is going to make it better.”

Steve waited quietly until Tony was done, then tucked his phone back into his pocket and turned towards the door. “I just wanted to tell you in person.”

After Steve left, Tony sat still in his chair, elbows on the armrests, fingers steepled in the middle, and tried to stop wanting to break things. He stood to leave, but then stopped and pulled open the drawer, wondering what Steve had been holding when he came in. The cell phone Steve had sent him was sitting haphazardly tossed on a pile of mission reports, instead of tucked up in its usual place at the bottom of the pile, next to The Letter.

Tony slammed the drawer shut.

**

They managed to make it to 6 p.m. without killing each other, and were both marching across the roof before the chopper's rails hit the landing pad. The flight to Detroit was too loud to have any kind of conversation. The army still used the most outdated helicopter technology, sad really, but Tony was grateful for nothing but white noise.

He would have preferred to fly there on his own power, of course, cheered by the dulcet tones of Ozzy Osbourne and pals, but Fury and Ross didn't want the public knowing any Avengers were on site so he was grounded for now, and the suit was packed in a large crate in the back of the chopper.

Steve spent the entire flight tapping on his phone, which was a new development. It used to be hard enough to get Steve to remember to bring it on missions, let alone be inseparable from it. Tony suspected he was texting with his pet cyborg assassin, and that wasn’t making him feel any better about this.

Steve was finally pulled away from his phone by the reason for their excursion coming into view. The pilot swooped low over the area and Tony saw Steve’s jaw drop, knowing he’d adopted a similar expression himself.

An entire six-square-block area was overwhelmed by a massive dome of _something different._ It wasn’t exactly a different colour and it didn’t have _mass,_ so much as it was just off. It had an odd almost reflective quality and the light within the dome was dimmed even darker than the failing light they were flying through.

The pilot kept a safe distance but gave them plenty of time to get a good look. Once their curiosity had been sated, Steve patted him on the shoulder and he tipped the chopper towards a roof a few blocks out of the affected zone.

A young man in a snappy, black tac suit was waiting for them, clearly one of Fury’s team, the downdraft from the rotors blowing his dark hair wild. He shot them a smart salute and then shook each of their hands, introducing himself as Jeffries, the spec ops team lead.

The special ops team had commandeered one of the larger hotels in the area and Jeffries showed them around while a crew nervously unloaded Tony’s massive case from the helicopter. He showed them their own rooms, a few doors down from each other on the same floor, and the common areas, letting them know they were free to raid the kitchen and use the pool while they waited for the go order.

Jeffries seemed a bit awestruck by their presence, which Tony was used to. Steve, on the other hand, kept trying to relax the poor guy by assuring him they weren’t nearly as cool as he seemed to think they were, at every given opportunity. Tony, who actually was that cool, thank you, tried to resist rolling his eyes right out of their sockets as the two idiots stuttered at each other.

Finally, he could take it no longer and ditched the dithering duo to check out his room. For some reason, they’d pulled him and Steve in the night before, though they wouldn’t be heading into the dome until tomorrow morning.

“Welcome to the Thunderdome,” Tony said to his duffle bag. “Two superheroes enter, zero leave cause they are definitely going to kill each other.”

He sulked around his room for a while, feeling restless. There wasn’t a lot of preparing you could do for a mission that was one massive unknown.

Eventually, he decided to go find the armour’s crate and make sure they hadn’t put a dent in it. It had been wheeled carefully into the conference room, which was currently empty of people, though packed to the gills with equipment and supplies.

Tony flipped open the top of the case to check on his baby and was greeted by the shiny red and blue of Captain America’s shield.

Fuck.

He’d not so much forgotten, as aggressively shoved the memory out of his mind. He’d packed the damn thing at the last minute, not willing to give it back to Steve, but not sure what would happen if Steve showed up without it.

Steve still hadn't asked for it back and Tony couldn't explain why, but it was starting to royally piss him off. He wanted that opportunity to say, “Fuck you, it's mine,” or, “I don't have it anymore,” or just chuck the damn thing at his head. It seemed that Steve was going to deny him the opportunity, though, ignoring the topic completely and preparing to go on the mission without it.

Steve still had the Captain America armour, star-studded chest and all. It was kind of ridiculous, actually, that the thing Tony had painstakingly constructed he still had, but the shield, which had been made before Tony was even born, was what he’d made Steve leave behind.

It wasn’t a hard mystery to solve, despite not wanting to think about it too hard. Steve loved the shield and in that moment Tony had wanted to take something from him that he loved. He couldn’t decide if he hated himself for that or not. He sure as shit hated Steve more.

Tony slammed the top of the case down and stormed out of the conference room. He was just passing the kitchen when he spotted Steve inside, leaning against the counter and eating a sandwich with a faraway expression.

He knew he should just keep walking, but he was hungry and he was sick of waiting for Steve to bring the shield up. He sauntered in and pulled a jello cup out of the huge fridge.

“What’s up, Cap?” he asked around a mouthful of red, wibbly sugar.

Steve raised a dubious eyebrow at him. “That dome is pretty wild. Just wondering what we might find inside.”

“They said no detectable lifeforms, but it’s usually the undetectable ones you’ve got to look out for anyway.” Tony grinned at him sarcastically. He paused, rolling the fight-starter around in his mouth before letting it loose. “Can you even fight terrible, undetectable lifeforms without the shield? It was really all you had going for you, wasn’t it?”

Steve looked up sharply at Tony, considering him for a long time before answering. “Why are you asking me that, Tony?”

“Just worried about my own hide, buddy, when things go bad I want to know you can handle yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve replied flatly.

Tony fiddled with the now empty jello cup. “You don’t even want it back?” he blurted out, without really meaning to.

Steve moved unbelievably carefully, sliding his cleared plate into the sink and pushing up away from the counter. He looked Tony right in the eye. “Of course I want it back. It feels like I’m missing a limb without it.” He spoke softly and without emotion. “But like you said, it doesn’t belong to me.”

Steve turned and walked out of the kitchen.

It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Tony had hoped. In fact, the conversation left him feeling like shit. He threw the jello cup in the trash with more force than was necessary, gave Steve enough time to clear the hallway, then stomped out, and up to his room.

By 2 a.m. Tony still hadn’t managed to fall asleep, despite throwing pillows, blankets, and electronics around for the better part of an hour. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that fucking shield nestled in with his suit.

And he had to make a decision because he couldn’t activate the suit tomorrow morning with the shield in the case so he had to either move it, or give it back.

He decided that the middle of the night was the best time to take care of it. He could bring it up here to his room and then figure out what he wanted to do. The last thing he needed was Captain Concern finding him hauling around the shield.

The halls were dark and empty and Tony padded quietly towards the stairs in stocking feet. The lights were off in the conference room, but the Iron Man crate glowed red. Tony ran a fingertip along the sensor and it beeped softly and opened for him.

The shield sat there cozied up on top of the armour, mocking him.

“Fuck you,” he told it.

When it didn’t deign to reply, he hauled it out and shut the case again. “Goddamnit, you’re heavy.” He grunted and shifted its awkward weight in his arms.

Back up in the hall, he had to walk past Steve’s room to get to his own and when he reached the door, his feet halted and refused to go any further.

The shield was a burden he didn’t really want. A piece of his father he neither wanted to sentimentalize, nor defile.

Plus he was a fucking adult, right?

He stood there for a solid five minutes, alone in the dark, unmoving, before he dropped the shield outside Steve’s door and walked back to his room.

**

Tony’s late night made for a rough morning and by the time he staggered out of his room, it seemed like everyone else had left. No one had come to harass him so he figured he wasn’t late, just not as disgustingly early as the rest of the crew. As he slipped out of his room, he couldn’t help but glance down the hall towards Steve’s room.

The shield was gone.

A jumpy, junior agent was waiting for him downstairs.

“You got a Starbucks around here, kid?” he asked, slipping on a pair of dark sunglasses.

“Umm, no, Sir. I mean, yes, but, with the evacuation, there, uh, there isn’t...anyone...there,” the kid managed to stammer out while furiously avoiding eye contact.

Tony wrapped a benevolent arm around the agent’s shoulders and started walking them out of the hotel. “Know how to fly a helicopter, Junior?”

“Umm, no?”

“Shame. Someone must, though. How much would it cost me to get a latte here in under an hour?”

“Not as much as he would have been willing to pay,” turned out to be the answer and 57 minutes later the kid was steering an ATV - containing one freshly caffeinated Tony - up to the command post they’d set up near the edge of the dome.

Tables, ATVs, and agents surrounded the entrance to an alleyway that would be their access point. They’d said it was convenient to set up there, but Tony suspected it was an attempt at a bottleneck in case he and Steve came out with an army of angry aliens at their heels.

The spec ops team had gathered around the entrance to the alleyway, hovering in an anticipatory way that made Tony wonder what kind of outcome they were hoping for. A nervousness was twisting up his stomach that had more to do with the upcoming hours stuck alone with Steve, than potential Tony-eating aliens. If that wasn’t some Grade A, teenage-girl bullshit, he didn’t know what was.

Steve was in full uniform, the shield flashing on his back in the bright morning light. Tony had yet to put the suit on, instead sipping his $75 latte and glaring at everyone from behind sunglasses that he wished were about 30 shades darker.

“Why don’t we ever fight the forces of evil in the late afternoon?” He sidled up next to Steve who was gesturing overly-dramatically to a map spread out between him and Jeffries.

“Nice of you to show up.” He couldn’t tell if Steve was joking with him again, or actually pissed. Perhaps the almost-olive branch of the shield had backfired.

“This hair is a process, Rogers. It doesn’t just _happen_.” He watched carefully as Steve rolled his eyes, but a small smile teased the edge of his mouth as well, and Tony breathed a little easier. Happy Steve would be a lot easier to work with than Angry Steve, Righteous Steve, or Trying-to-Apologize-Again-Asshole Steve.

He half-listened as the two rehashed the same useless information they’d been going over since Fury called them in. Basically, they knew nothing and the whole point of sending in Tony and Steve was to try and know something. No breaking, no blowing things up, no conflict if possible. Find the epicentre, take some readings, get out.

It was pretty boring, really. The Iron Man suit would capture any information they wanted and as far as anyone could tell there weren’t any hostile lifeforms present. The upshot, of course, being that Steve and Tony would basically be taking a stroll together with no fighting or explosions to occupy them, which left them two options: awkward conversation, or awkward silence.

Steve reached out to shake Jeffries’ hand and then folded up the map and tucked it carefully into his belt. Tony resisted the urge to remind him that FRIDAY could provide them with a map of anything while they were in there so there was no need for paper. Grandpa liked taking an extra hour to fold and unfold the damn thing so he bit his tongue.

“Ready to get this show on the road?” Tony asked and Steve nodded.

Jeffries gave them a sharp salute. “Good luck, gentlemen.”

Tony grinned. This was his favourite part. He pulled his sunglasses off and tossed them on the table next to his empty coffee cup. Reaching down he gave the bracelets a little twist. Thirty feet away Tony’s case burst open and pieces of the suit started flying across the clearing. Several soldiers flinched out of the way, but the suit carefully avoided all obstacles.

Tony flashed Jeffries a saucy salute just before the suit collided with his back. Getting suited didn’t exactly hurt, but the bracelet-controlled deployment was still a little... rough. When the faceplate snapped down Tony gave his head a little shake and stretched out his arms and legs. Steve just gave him another curt nod and they made their way down the alley.

The edge of the dome pressed ominously against the bricks on either side, anything beyond obscured by the strange reflectiveness of its surface. The spec ops team pressed in around them, curiosity clearly overpowering their fear of the unknown threat.

Steve glanced at Tony and for the first time, he saw a hint of trepidation there. Luckily Steve couldn’t see past the emotionless eyes of the Iron Man suit or he’d see that Tony had a whole bucket load of trepidation going on.

Still, they both moved in and pushed against the barrier.

It gave against the sideways pressure, letting them slip forward past the edge, but retaliated with immense downward pressure of its own. The force field was only a couple feet deep, Tony could see the wavy edges where it would break, but it was hard going. The suit held, but Steve’s knees buckled and he grunted, ducking his head and trying to take the brunt of it on his broad shoulders.

The suit gave a tiny creak which had Tony wondering how Steve’s bones weren’t breaking, but a second later they were through and the pressure lifted with startling suddenness. Steve staggered forward, unbalanced, and Tony automatically reached out and caught his upper arm, tipping him back on his feet.

They were now within the dome, its tall walls looming up behind them and blocking out the way they’d come in. The light inside was dark and kind of hazy, almost like it was out of focus. Everything was eerily quiet and Tony wasn’t sure if that was because of the evacuation, or some sound-dampening effect.

Steve gestured to his left when they reached the end of the ally and they turned down the empty street. This area of the city was all big factories, some new, some older, with windows shattered and bricks missing. Graffiti covered everything. The layout of the long blocks meant they had to walk around for quite a bit before they could turn towards their goal.

As they wandered, a different-looking building caught Tony’s eye. The small distillery was tucked between two massive, expressionless factories and someone had painted the front a cheery yellow and decided to plant a small flower box by the door. There was something disturbing about the plants growing there so Tony wandered over to look more closely.

What was once a marigold was now something very different. The petals were jagged and stiff. The leaves were coated in a forest of tiny hairs that wafted gently back and forth, despite the air within the dome being still.

“It’s no longer photosynthesizing,” FRIDAY provided. “It seems to be surviving on nutrients it pulls from the air.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony watched the suit’s info-feed record a plethora of information about the not-quite-a-flower. Steve raised a curious eyebrow and Tony turned back to the road, jogging a little to catch up.

For several more blocks, they chose Option 2: Awkward Silence, before Tony could handle it no longer and busted out Option 1.

“So. How’s your surly, one-armed girlfriend? Still brainwashed?”

Steve blanched and stopped dead. “Tony!”

“What? I’m trying to be nice and take an interest in your life.”

Steve stared at him for a moment and then just deflated. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, honest. It’s just so fucking quiet in here, I’m going crazy.” He shrugged as Steve walked on. Tony muttered after him, “I thought you’d be more chill now that you’re getting some on the regular.” Steve glanced back at him, looking confused, but didn’t slow his stride.

They continued on in silence until they turned a corner and Steve came to a halt, pulling out his map. FRIDAY had a small map displayed in the corner of the HUD so Tony already knew what Steve was going to say, but he let him have his moment.

Steve pointed to the long, windowless wall of a large factory. “It’s in there, the heart of the dome.”

In the middle of the wall was a large double door, padlocked and chained. They approached it cautiously.

Steve took a few more steps then looked back to give Tony an appraising look, which shifted into a wry smile, like he’d just realized something. “I don’t know what makes you think I’m ‘getting some.’”

“What, are you and Robocop saving yourselves for marriage or something? Cause I gotta say, I know for a fact you won’t be wearing white, Rogers.”

Steve actually chuckled. “Bucky and I aren’t sleeping together; we’ve never been together.”

“Well damn, I was enjoying being the Other Woman,” Tony quipped, trying to hide his very real surprise. “How could you possibly not be? You’re all over each other. You defected for him.”

“Bucky is my best friend,” Steve replied simply, reaching the door and giving the large padlock a little shake. “You're the only guy I've ever wanted to do that with, Tony.”

Tony couldn't help his double take, but Steve was occupied with the lock and didn't notice. “I don't think two quickies in my workshop and a handjob in an elevator counts as sleeping together, Cap.” He tried to cover his surprise with sass.

“Well you're the only guy I ever wanted to give a handjob to in an elevator as well,” Steve shot back easily. He raised the shield and smacked it down on the lock, splitting it deftly in two.

Tony had to admit that he was totally blindsided by that. He always thought that the few times Steve had sought him out for sex had been because Steve missed Barnes. They never talked about it afterwards and Tony was not one to pass up a good orgasm so it hadn't bothered him much at the time. Hearing it now, and so casually, was messing with his world-view.

Steve pushed open the door with a loud creak and Tony furiously stomped memories of Steve spread out on his workshop floor down into the rather overfull section of his mind labeled: IGNORE AT ALL COSTS.

The entire roof of the factory had caved in, forming a ring of shingles and debris around the centre of the room where an ominous black pod sat. It was diamond-shaped, quiet, unmoving, and made no indication that it could acknowledge their presence. It was so black it seemed to suck in some of the light around it in a dark halo - more like a tear in reality than an actual object.

By walking around it Tony was able to get a sense of its shape, while FRIDAY took copious readings, videos, air samples, and x-rays.

“It’s so...black.” Steve sounded fairly flummoxed.

“This has got to be alien tech. Looks like it came in through the roof.” Tony gestured at the massive hole.

“It’s causing all of this?”

“Well, it’s smack dab in the middle, so it’s involved somehow. Can’t be sure it’s causing it - might rely on it? Or be a product of it? I’m getting lots of data though, so hopefully we can suss it out once we’re back on dry land.”

Steve circled around to stand next to Tony. “I... I kind of really want to touch it,” he admitted quietly.

Tony’s smile was hidden behind the faceplate. “Me too. It looks so unreal.”

“Probably not a good idea though.”

“Nope.”

They stood silent for a long time, watching the pod do absolutely nothing.

“Is that it? You’ve got data, pictures?” Steve was the first to break the silence.

“Yeah, we’re all set, I guess. Pretty anti-climactic.”

Steve half-shrugged and picked his way back towards the door.

Tony took one last look at the pod and set off after Steve. As he shoved his way through the debris, his heavy metal boot landed on a large piece of shingling and it cracked in two, revealing the floor underneath. The concrete slab was oddly shiny, like it was wet or sticky.

Tony bent down and examined it more closely, moving some more rubble out of the way. It was a trail, starting at the pod and travelling across the room, disappearing under a large piece of the collapsed roof. A shiny trail, like a snail or slug would leave. Curiosity overwhelming everything else, he began shoving the debris out of the way, following the trail to its conclusion.

It ended abruptly at a tiny puddle of black - the same edgeless, depthless black of the pod. It was so enticingly strange that, without thinking about it, Tony reached out and tentatively poked the puddle with one armour-clad finger.

The second he made contact with the puddle it moved lightening fast, first encasing two of his fingers in the substance and then disappearing entirely. Tony staggered backwards, shaking his glove, sure it had slipped inside between the minuscule cracks that allowed the suit to bend and move. He couldn’t feel anything on his skin and FRIDAY was giving him no alerts, but he still felt panic surging.

Tony straightened up and turned towards the door, just in time to see Steve stop, realize no one was following him, and turn to look behind. Tony was just opening his mouth to call Steve over when everything stopped.

And something _shifted._

He wasn’t sure, at first, exactly what had changed, but a switch flipped and from one moment to the next everything was wrong. His mouth slammed shut and the words he’d been calling up disappeared.

Steve started back towards him. “Everything okay?”

Tony tried to say, “ _N_ _o,”_ he tried to move, he tried to breathe, but nothing happened. He was stuck, frozen in place. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an hour. Then a shuddering breath in. Out. Another. His hand moved. But not in the way he intended it to.

His mouth opened and closed and his tongue ran along his teeth, dipping into each valley between them.

None of it was Tony’s doing.

His mouth opened again and this time his voice came out. It was his voice, his rhythm, but not his words. Not the words he was trying to scream out. “I’m fine, just tripped on a shingle, let’s go.”

It sounded just like him, no hesitation, no awkwardness. Words he would have said if he _had_ just tripped, but he hadn’t tripped, he’d touched an alien lifeform and now his body was moving on its own and this thing was saying words that weren’t his.

 _STEVE_ he yelled, but the thing in control just stalked its way through the rubble, following Steve out of the factory and into the empty streets.

Tony had never felt so claustrophobic in his life. The walls of his own body were pressing in around him, trapping him inside. He screamed and fought and searched for access to his hands, his feet, anything, but there was nothing. He couldn't feel the presence of the other being, just knew it must have the control that he didn’t.

His panic was completely disconnected from the physical. His heart rate stayed calm and sure, his breathing even. No adrenaline energized his blood. But his mind raged, rattling the bars of a psychological cage and watching another _thing_ walk away with his body.

It was several blocks of sheer panic before Tony was able to calm down enough to try to take stock of the situation. He had no idea what the parasite intended to do, now that it had a Tony suit - and an Iron Man suit for that matter - but it seemed content to follow Steve out of the factory district and back towards the alley where the soldiers waited for them.

Tony wasn’t sure if there might be a way that he could connect, or communicate with the thing. He probably should have paid more attention to Dr. Strange’s psychotic ramblings. FRIDAY noticed nothing and the suit responded to the thing’s control as if it were really him - the helmet displaying environmental readings, suit updates and Tony’s Twitter feed as per usual.

Steve steeled himself as they reached the barrier, now a few inches further out than it had been when they left, and Tony hoped desperately that the thing would not be able to leave the affected area.

His hope was in vain. Steve shoved through, grimacing in pain as the crushing pressure of the force field assaulted his body, and the parasite followed, coming out the other side without hesitation or incident.

Jeffries met them as soon as they came through, leaping up and hurrying over eagerly. “Are you okay? Did you find anything?”

“Peachy keen!” The parasite replied, clapping Jeffries on the shoulder, who buckled a little under the power of the suit. “That was the lamest mission I’ve ever been on. We literally walked in and walked out.” The voice was so perfectly Tony in every way. If he’d heard a recording, he would have believed it was himself.

“We did find something.” Steve pulled the cowl off and grabbed a water bottle off the nearby table. “A pod...thing It was hard to really see. I’ve never seen anything so black before. It was like empty space instead of an object. I don’t think it physically could have been blacker.”

“None more black,” _it_ added, cheekily. The other two men ignored it, but Tony was stunned. How the _fuck_ could an alien lifeform quote Spinal Tap? Tony supposed there was always the chance he was having some kind of psychotic break and he _was_ in control of his body, but his mind had splintered somehow? That definitely seemed unlikely. The black puddle had moved, it was definitely alive and it had disappeared into Tony’s suit. It had to be the thing driving this bus.

It flicked a finger subtlety inside the suit and the faceplate flipped back, exposing Tony’s face to the other two. Tony crossed his mental fingers hoping desperately that there would be something different about him that Steve or Jeffries might notice. _Please have glowing red eyes, please have glowing red eyes,_ he tried, but neither man gave him a second glance as it deftly deactivated and removed the rest of the suit.

The thing promised to send the recorded data to Jeffries’ team, also insisting in a very Tony-like way that not a one of them would find any answers before he found them himself. Jeffries looked equal parts impressed and frustrated - which was the usual response to Tony - and eventually left them in the hands of Tony’s baby agent who piled them in an ATV and whisked them back to the hotel.

“Any theories?” Steve asked as they bounced down the uneven road.

The thing shrugged. “I haven’t had a good look at any of the results yet. FRIDAY’s working on some more detailed analysis. A few things have crossed my mind though. A transport pod? A bomb? A communication device?”

“A really, really, slow bomb?” Steve looked incredulous.

“Hey, if it’s stupid and it works…” It gave Steve a smile and flicked Tony’s sunglasses back on his face.

Steve was quiet for a moment. “If it’s a communication device, can we use it? To communicate with who sent it, I mean.”

“Maybe. First, we have to decide if we even want to.” It trailed off vaguely and Steve fell silent again.

It was becoming clear to Tony that this thing must have access to his whole mind. It spoke so clearly and confidently. It referenced things it shouldn’t know, used people’s names, and never hesitated to answer to Tony’s name. It was all piling on to make Tony feel even less and less confident that it wasn’t really some part of his own brain in charge. How could the parasite have such accurate and instantaneous access to everything that was Tony?

It was a perfect imposter.

This was so hopeless. No one would recognize that it wasn’t really Tony - even Tony was nearly convinced it was really him. This thing would have control of Tony’s body as long as it wanted and there was nothing he could do trapped here in a useless corner of his mind.

Tony found himself drifting away a little, ignoring the conversation that was carrying on between Steve and the parasite, sinking into isolation.

They reached the hotel and the ATV zipped away leaving them alone. Steve headed straight for the kitchen and the thing followed him, flipping through Tony’s phone.

Steve picked at a bag of chips, brow furrowed, staring across the kitchen at nothing.

“What’s up, Buttercup? You look like you want to murder that KitchenAid.” The thing smirked.

“I have all this pent-up energy. I got all geared up and then we just ended up walking for a while.” Steve shrugged. “I need to burn it off.”

The thing leered, eyes drifting over Steve’s tight t-shirt. “I know some good ways to burn off steam.”

Steve just rolled his eyes, then he caught Tony’s gaze and paused. “I was thinking more like working out.” He watched Tony carefully for a second and the parasite looked back, unperturbed. “We could spar?”

The thing looked down at the phone for a second, then shrugged. “Why not? I get what you mean about being all wound up. I was hoping we’d run into an angry dog or something, at the very least. I need to get some backup Iron Men I can contract these silly little missions out to, so I can stay home and drink in my pajamas.”

“I saw a gym on the map, in the basement. Meet you downstairs in ten?” Steve didn’t shift his gaze from Tony’s face while he spoke.

“Yessir.” The parasite gave Steve a mock-salute and shuffled off towards the stairs. Tony could feel Steve’s eyes watching them as they exited the room.

A deeply uncomfortable thought crept into his mind. The thing wasn’t just walking and talking and referencing cult classics like Tony, it was even flirting like Tony. In fact, so far, it was doing _everything_ Tony normally did. And one of the things Tony normally did was Steve.

Steve had said sparring, but it wouldn’t be the first time an Avenger had used working out as a euphemism for sex - he and Pepper had “hit the gym” on more than one occasion. He could be trapped in his own mind while the thing slept with Steve, not having any idea that it wasn’t Tony behind the wheel. He had the unpleasant idea of nausea without the physical sensation to back it up, the oddness of which spiraled him deeper into the helplessness of his situation.

It could do anything it wanted.

It could fuck Steve, or hurt him. It could hurt Pepper. Hurt himself. The thing could walk upstairs and shoot Tony in the head and no one would ever have any idea what had happened.

Panic gave way to despair and Tony curled up in the mental space he seemed to have left for him and waited for the thing to make its move.

Once alone the parasite didn’t seem any different. It still moved and acted like Tony, pushing into his room, flipping on the news, and pulling off his t-shirt. It rummaged around in Tony’s bag and pulled out sweatpants and a new t-shirt. It didn’t say anything or reach out to Tony in any way. Just shuffled around the room, seemingly getting ready to go downstairs for a workout.

It picked up a water bottle and gulped down half of it while watching the news scroll idly by. After a few minutes, it stood and drifted out of the room. It jogged down the stairs to the basement and pushed open the big double doors to the gym.

Steve was already there, practicing free throws at the far end. The thing pulled a few mats off the wall and tossed them on the floor, beckoning Steve over.

“I’ll go easy on you, Old Man,” Steve taunted.

“God, I should hope so,” the thing shot back. “I could science you into a corner any day of the week, but I think we’re all fully aware you could break me in half with your pinky finger.”

Steve laughed, but he was still giving Tony that careful, calculating look. Tony hoped desperately that it wasn’t his pre-jump-your-bones look.

They started off gently, pulling punches and dodging more than connecting. Then the parasite got a good shot in, connecting with Steve’s jaw, and the intensity ramped up. Before long Steve was flipping him down onto the mat as often as he could, the parasite getting up a little slower each time. Finally, it tapped out, groaning as Steve helped them up.

Tony could feel the sweat trickling down his brow, but he couldn’t brush it away, could feel the burn of his lungs, but couldn’t increase his breathing rate to alleviate it - it was all up to the parasite.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder and tossed him a water bottle, moving to stand a little too close and giving him that odd look again. “Tony, are you feeling okay?”

 _NO!_ Tony screamed uselessly.

The parasite raised an eyebrow. “What, you think a little roughhousing is going to do me in, Steve? I’ll admit, I’m a little winded, but you’re not that good.”

“That’s not what I -” Steve cut off, waving his hand dismissively. “Nevermind, I’ve gotta go fill out my After Action. Thanks for the workout.” He patted Tony’s shoulder again and walked off.

“More like After No Action,” the thing called after him.

The parasite brought them back up to Tony’s room, pulled out his Starkpad, and curled up on the bed flicking through his emails and a few reports he had half finished. Tony thought, slightly hysterically, that if he had to play host to a terrifying alien lifeform at least it might get some of his work done for him.

He was just wondering if the thing was going to let them sleep at all - and if the part of him that was still him would get to sleep as well - when there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” it called out.

“It’s Steve, Tony, something happened, get out here.”

The thing hopped off the bed, padded over to the door and pulled it open to find... nothing. It stepped out into the hall, turning to the right and coming face to face with the barrel of a gun.

It stepped back in surprise but the gun fired, Tony felt a sharp pain in his neck, and it tripped, falling backwards. Something halted their fall before they hit the ground and it blinked up into Steve’s terrified face before everything flickered away into nothing.


	2. Fracture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note I have bumped this up to explicit for sexual content in this chapter. Thanks!

Tony blinked hard against bright, white light and raised a hand to shield his eyes. His stomach swooped and his eyes shot all the way open when he realized that his hand had listened to his command. 

He sat up too fast and wobbled a little as dots danced behind his eyes.

“Tony?” That was Steve’s voice. He looked over and Steve rose out of a chair, setting down a book as he did so. They were in one of the hotel rooms, but not Tony’s or Steve’s. There were two double beds and the one Tony was on was covered in several layers of white sheets and nothing else. The other bed was fully made up but covered in a large array of medical supplies and equipment.

Tony’s eyes followed Steve’s progress across the room. Steve eyed him cautiously as he sat down on the other bed, shoving a pile of gauze bandages out of the way.

“Tony?” he repeated.

Tony was almost afraid to try to speak in case the words wouldn’t come out, but he swallowed and gained confidence when his tongue followed his orders easily. “Steve?” he tried.

“Oh, thank God.” Steve rubbed his hands through his hair and let out a long breath.

Tony spied a glass of water on the bedside table and reached for it. Steve beat him to it, adjusting the straw before he handed it over. “What happened?” he managed to get out around the straw.

Steve took another deep breath. “There was...something...in you. It had taken over all your motor functions, it talked like you, moved like you, even fought like you. We had to shoot you with a tranq. Dr. Franks did a CT and found it embedded in your back. He, uh, removed it. They wanted to take you to a hospital, but I - we didn’t know if it was hurting you, so we rushed it. Dr. Franks was worried there might be permanent damage if we waited.”

Tony was still feeling woozy and had a little trouble following Steve’s rambling narrative, but the gist was that they had knocked him out and excised the little fucker. Which meant he really was free. 

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Something that was almost a sob threatened to work its way out of his throat and he dropped his face into his hands, taking steadying breaths. “I was in there. I knew it had me. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I thought I -” Tony tipped back on the bed to stop the room spinning.

“God, Tony.” Steve sounded awful.

“You tipped them off. After the gym. How did you know?”

Steve shifted nervously on the other bed. “Um.” There was a pause. “You just seemed...off.” 

Tony was 100% sure Steve was not telling the whole truth. He knew he wasn’t “off.” The parasite had done a perfect Tony impression. Even Tony himself had been fooled.

Steve continued, rushing his words. “I could tell something was wrong and after being exposed to alien tech it seemed safer to take you out and then check. I figured if I was wrong the worst you could do was hate me for knocking you out and you already do, so…”

Tony had the sudden urge to assure Steve he didn’t hate him, which was weird since he was pretty sure he did. At least most of the time. Right now he had to admit he was pretty damn grateful for the guy.

“Thank you.” He rolled to the side and caught Steve’s startled eye.

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” Steve actually blushed a little.

“Fuck, that was terrifying,” Tony breathed out a little too honestly. He sat up, more carefully this time, and stretched back, trying to find the spot where the parasite had been removed. Steve reached over and guided his hand to a spot high on his back, just left of his spine. There was a bandage covering the wound, but he could feel the skin catching on the stitches. It hurt, but not too bad. Not as bad as his pounding head as the tranquilizer wore off fully. He wrinkled his nose. “I think you gave me the full elephant dose.”

“You should rest. Do you want to go back to your room, or sleep here? Dr. Franks will want to check on you, but he can come by a little later.”

Tony had already laid back down and could feel sleep pulling at him. “I think I’ll just stay here for now.”

“Okay.” Steve pulled a blanket off the other chair and tossed it over Tony. The blanket was warm and comforting and Tony was out in moments.

***

Tony snapped awake, his breath already coming in short gasps. If he'd been dreaming, he couldn't remember it, but his heart was pounding and his stomach was full of acid. He’d moved back to his own room after Dr. Franks had come by in the afternoon and had immediately fallen asleep again without eating anything. 

He rolled over to look at the clock. “4:00,” it proclaimed. Why was it always 4 a.m.? He curled his body in on itself, a useless attempt at defending against the waves of churning panic.

He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart under the tangle of scars where the arc reactor used to be. There had been a time when its blue glow was a comforting reminder that he had survived.  _ You won,  _ he would say to himself over and over. Now it was just another hole dug in him.

His stomach rolled again and stinging bile teased his throat. No position was comfortable and the blankets alternated between much too hot and much too cold. Finally Tony slid out of bed and onto the floor, back pressed against the mattress, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He pressed his forehead to his knees and tried to remember how to breathe.

It took him a few minutes to realize he was shaking, but he could only make it stop for a few moments and then it would start again. The most ridiculous thing was that this wasn't anything new. Five hours trapped with a mind-controlling parasite and he was having the same middle-of-the-night panic attacks he'd been having for years. The thought made him laugh bitterly.

When it became clear that sleep wasn’t going to come again, especially after he’d spent most of the afternoon unconscious anyway, he pushed to his feet and staggered to the bathroom.

He turned the shower up too hot and stood under the powerful stream for a long time, his muscles slowly relaxing, and blood returning to his fingers and toes. His heart rate and breathing slowed as his brain kicked fully into gear. Once his skin was tingly and the air was starting to get uncomfortably humid, Tony wrapped himself in a fluffy hotel robe and crawled back into bed.

Everyone else was surely still asleep and he didn’t feel like hauling out his Starkpad so Tony flipped the tv on, volume muted, and clicked around aimlessly for a while. This time of night it was mostly infomercials, sitcom reruns, and made-for-tv movies. 

He flipped to a news channel and it was playing an old special on the Avengers made after the Battle for New York. Old footage of the Chitauri lit up the screen while subtitles scrolled across the bottom, describing the alien attack.

The camera panned and there was Steve, full costume on, shield flying, ripping creature after creature in two. The shaky camera stayed on him for a long time, eventually losing sight of him as he took cover behind a bus.

Tony’s thoughts inevitably drifted towards the man sleeping just two doors down the hall. He still wasn’t sure what exactly had tipped Steve off to the parasite and curiosity was starting to get to him. He wasn’t willing to push it at the time, but he’d be bothering Steve about that later, that was for sure.

The newscast cut to a reporter talking to the camera from inside the lobby at Avengers Tower. They’d camped out there for months, trying to catch sight of a superhero coming and going. Damn, he missed living in Manhattan.

Tony could see the bank of elevators behind the reporter and a memory wiggled its way into his mind, unbidden. Cool metal rapidly warming under his sweaty palms, the rough scratch of Steve’s uniform on his forehead as he pressed his face into his shoulder. His breath hitched a little as he tried to shake the memory loose, but it was too late, his body reacted immediately to the flashback, eagerly demanding his attention.

He thought very briefly about making his way to that room two doors down the hall. He was pretty sure Steve would be up for it, and a near-death-experience was the perfect excuse for risky behaviour that he would regret later. 

He decided against it almost immediately, though. There was too much unsaid between them and there was no way they’d get to shed clothes before Mr. Responsible tried to ask Tony about his feelings, or some shit.

He could take care of this himself.

Tony flipped around channels for a bit, looking for something vaguely porny. After just a few minutes of idly stroking himself though, he decided to just flip it off and let his imagination run wild instead.

Of course, try as he might, his imagination would only supply the same thought that had brought him here in the first place, and he had to admit that as soon as he gave into it, he was rock hard and pressing up into his hand.

They had been moving out of the damaged Avengers Tower after Ultron, Tony was feeling vulnerable and Pepper had just told him she couldn’t do this anymore. Steve had responded to an incident in South America and had returned with a huge gash across his cheek and a scowl that wouldn’t lift.

They’d bumped into each other in the elevator, Tony heading up from the workshop to the penthouse to crash for a few hours, Steve heading up from the garage to his old room to grab some stuff he’d left behind before heading to the compound. 

Tony had summoned the elevator and startled at the sight that greeted him when the doors opened. The elevator lights were dim without JARVIS to adjust them. Steve was still dirty, his armour on, but unzipped to his waist, his white t-shirt peeking out from underneath. His eyes were hooded, his hands clenched on the railing behind him as he scowled at the floor. He looked up suddenly, clearly just as surprised to see Tony, and his expression brightened a little bit.

The tension turned palpable the second Tony stepped on. Their last tryst had only been about a week before - their second time together. Before the doors finished closing Steve was already reaching for Tony.

He pulled Tony flush against his body, leaving his own back pressed against the wall, and nuzzled into his neck, breathing Tony in deeply. The elevator started to zip up and Tony fumbled backwards, sliding his palm aggressively down the button panel, selecting every floor between the workshop and the penthouse, buying them more time here in limbo.

Steve slid his hands up Tony’s chest and then down his arms to his hands. He pulled gently, placing Tony’s palms against the railing, one hand on either side of Steve’s hips. He held them there until Tony got the silent message:  _ don’t let go _ . Steve’s hands went back to Tony’s core, fiddling with his t-shirt, then dipping down to his waistband.

He popped open Tony’s jeans and smirked when he found no boxers underneath. Their gazes met for a moment and something passed between them that Tony couldn’t quite define. When Steve pushed Tony’s pants down to his thighs and took him firmly in hand, Tony could no longer keep his gaze and dropped his forehead to Steve’s shoulder.

He gripped the railing hard, resisting the urge to paw back at Steve. For perhaps the first time ever, Tony wanted to do as Steve told him and not think about anything else. Behind them, the doors  _ binged _ and opened, then slid closed again, over and over. Only the Avengers had access to the tower after the attack, and Tony knew the others were currently all holed up at the compound so no one would be bothering them.

Soon he couldn’t think of anything but Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock and the gentle rhythm. Tension was curling deep in the pit of his stomach and he tried to stop his hips from bucking forward, seeking a more intense pace. 

“7,” Steve suddenly whispered, lips brushing his ear, increasing the speed of his hand slightly, and sending tingles of pleasure up Tony’s spine. The doors opened and closed. 

“6.” The doors opened and closed.

“5.” The bastard was counting off the floors they had left. Tony’s toes curled in his shoes as he fought the urge to  _ move,  _ letting Steve control everything.

“4.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the railing. If he had Steve’s strength he would have dented it by now. His arms were trembling as the tension grew, lighting shocks of pleasure building into a full-on storm under his skin. Steve continued to gradually increase the speed of his hand. The doors opened and he added a little twist to his wrist to rub his palm over the head of Tony’s cock before they closed again.

“3.” Tony didn’t think he could last much longer. Steve’s breath was tickling his ear. His unoccupied hand snaked up to wrap around the back of Tony’s neck and hold him still.

“2.” Steve’s hand was relentless now, jacking him off with a punishing pace. Tony gasped out little noises into Steve’s shoulder, the zipper from the armour digging into his cheek. The doors opened and closed.

The swoop of the elevator rising matched the swoop of Tony’s stomach as his orgasm began to build and he twisted his hands painfully against the metal railing, his body begging to move, begging for release. He felt like a coiled spring ready to go at any moment.

There was a  _ bing  _ and the doors started to slide open to the Penthouse foyer. Steve leaned forward, his stubble brushing Tony’s cheek and whispered, “Come for me, Tony.”

And he did.

The orgasm ripped through him and he stumbled a little as his knees tried to give way. Steve held him up, carrying Tony through the aftershocks, breathing almost as hard into his ear as Tony was into Steve’s neck.

When it abated and Tony could stand again, he carefully pried his hands off the railing, shaking feeling into his fingers. Steve stayed leaned back, eyes fixed on Tony. Tony tucked himself gingerly back into his pants and raised a cocky eyebrow at Steve. He was just about to reach out and return the favour when Steve lurched suddenly forward. He wrapped his arms awkwardly around Tony’s shoulders and buried his face in his hair. 

Unsure what to do with the sudden affection, Tony just slipped his arms around Steve’s waist and let himself be held for a long while. The elevator sat patiently, programmed to wait at the Penthouse until it was summoned to another floor.

Steve walked them carefully towards the door until Tony was standing on the floor and Steve was leaning out of the door, arms still wrapped around Tony’s shoulders. Steve pulled back a bit and pressed his lips to Tony’s for the first and only time.

The kiss wasn’t long, or particularly intense, but it had a desperate edge to it Tony wasn’t really sure he understood. Steve broke the kiss, pressed another one to Tony’s forehead, then gently guided him backwards out of the elevator. He stepped back, gave Tony another long look, then reached out to the control panel.

Tony stood, stunned, as the doors  _ binged _ and slid closed, sliding into the floor and taking Steve with them. 

It had been bizarre and utterly different, and also possibly one of the best orgasms of Tony’s life. He hadn’t been able to ride an elevator without getting hard for about two weeks which had certainly presented some problems.

Even now the memory of Steve’s hand, his voice, his cheek, the zipper, the railing, it all came crashing down and Tony gripped the hotel sheets and came hard all over his hand. He breathed through it for a minute then pulled a tissue from the bedside table and cleaned himself up. He swallowed a couple times, clearing his suddenly dry throat. 

Curling back under the covers he started to fall asleep again, memories of Steve’s lips pressed softly to his forehead drifting in and out as he went.

**

Tony woke again just a few hours later, feeling as tired as before he’d gone to sleep, but a lot more lucid. It was clear he’d been more messed up by the tranquilizer than he thought - he’d actually seriously considered going to Steve’s room last night, Christ. 

Tony shaved and washed his face with a little more vigour than necessary, then dumped himself on his bed with his Starkpad collection. He popped a couple aspirin to try and stave off the horrific headache that was once again making itself known.

He pulled up the data that FRIDAY had compiled for him and tried to focus on digging through it for some answers, but his traitor mind kept wandering back to last night. Thinking about Steve, however reluctantly, brought him back to wondering how he’d known Tony was infected. He’d been so damn cagey yesterday.

As usual, Mr. Bossy Pants wasn’t sharing with the class and Tony was left in the dark. Only not actually in the dark because then apparently all he could do was fantasize about the guy like some angst-ridden 14-year-old with a damn crush.

Steve always found a way to infuriate him before long, and it pissed Tony off even more that he had the power to ruin elevators for him forever.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” he hissed out at no one. Damn control freak had to be in charge of everything. Even the goddamn sex had always been whenever Steve wanted and whatever Steve wanted. Tony just got swept up every time Steve waltzed into his workshop and forgot that he was a freaking adult.

His mood rapidly plummeting, Tony poked aggressively at the data in front of him, moving numbers around and experimenting with different correlations. Snapping at FRIDAY who just responded with sass of her own. Why he’d programmed a digital assistant with such an attitude, he’d never know. He was clearly a glutton for punishment in more ways that one.

He was just getting to the “pacing and throwing tablets around” stage when FRIDAY tossed up some new numbers she’d just compiled and suddenly everything clicked.

Tony stood stock still for a moment, taking it in, reviewing the connections and double checking the math in his head.

Yup, that was it.

He threw on some clothes, scooped up the tablets and made his way downstairs.

He caught sight of Jeffries and Steve before they noticed him. They were seated at a round table in the hotel’s conference room. A few members of the team huddled over laptop screens a few tables over. Steve was frowning, leaning back in his chair as Jeffries talked animatedly.

Tony stood in the doorway for a moment, until Steve looked up suddenly and caught his eye. Steve gave him a little questioning smile, but Tony scowled back, avoiding meeting his eye. He stalked up to the table and dropped his tablet in front of them obnoxiously. Jeffries startled and whipped around in surprise, but Steve just frowned again, lips pinching together.

“Terraforming,” Tony proclaimed without preamble.

“What?” Steve didn’t sound ready to indulge Tony in his usual eccentricities.

Tony opened his mouth to explain in great detail and then pondered the two faces staring back at him. “The pod. It’s terraforming. Or, rather, backwards terraforming. It’s making Earth compatible for a new species. I’m guessing for the species that took a ride on the Tony-mobile. Little sucker probably came down early, or something.”

Jeffries gave him a worried look. “Does that mean we should be expecting a full-scale invasion of those things?”

“Probably.” Tony shrugged. “But they clearly need Earth to be pre-seasoned just the way they like it first, so if we shut down the pod, we might be able to prevent them from coming here at all.”

“Is the already affected area going to return to normal if we shut it down?” Steve asked.

Tony pondered for a moment. “Pretty sure, yes. And I can tell you’re about to ask the million dollar question: can I shut it down? I think so, yes.”

“How?” Jeffries picked up the tablet and stared at it, confused.

Tony plucked the tablet out of his hands, turned it the right way up, and returned it. “‘Based purely on scientific intuition I’d say we irradiate the crap out of it.”

Steve frowned. “That’ll work?”

“It’s alien technology. I have no idea if it’ll work, but it’s my best guess. I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.”

“What do you need?” Jeffries asked eagerly.

Tony grinned.

Tony’s pet agent was dispatched with a list and instructions to collect what he could find, and mark what he couldn’t. Tony cleared an area in the middle of the hotel’s dining room and dragged his crate into the centre. He pulled out the replacement pieces he kept stored in the bottom of the case and started working out how he could build something new.

As usual, he got sucked deep into the beauty of engineering and time lost meaning. At some point much, much later, he came to again. The device was mostly finished save for a few pieces he was still waiting on.

Someone had definitely checked on him a few times and they must have left a plate of spaghetti next to his elbow at some point. It was cold and had the imprint of a screwdriver in it, but Tony ate it gratefully, finally feeling his growling stomach protesting his mechanical marathon.

It was dark outside which didn’t narrow down what time it might be by much, but Tony’s phone informed him it was 3 a.m. The exhaustion suddenly hit him like a mac truck and Tony tipped onto his back on the dining room floor as feeling flooded painfully back into his stiff legs. 

He should really go up to his room. He tried to tell his legs that, but they stayed stubbornly where they were.  _ Go to bed, Tony,  _ he tried telling himself, but sleep pulled relentlessly at his mind, each blink getting longer and longer until his eyes drifted fully shut.

He was woken abruptly by Junior giving a delicate cough from a few feet away. Tony sat up, rubbing his hands vigorously across his face and willing his mind to click in. The stubble under his hands was disturbingly rough - what day was it?

He finally looked up at his human alarm clock. Junior was shuffling awkwardly a few feet away, a large Starbucks cup in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. Tony pointed at the coffee and the kid handed it over quickly. After a large sip, he pointed at the bag and smiled when he opened it.

Only a few hours later the device was done. It was bigger, more awkward, and probably more... leaky... than it would be if he’d been able to build it at home, but for a jury-rigged radiation bomb, it wasn’t bad at all.

The other agents in the room were giving it a wide berth, but Junior hovered nearby, gasping in awestruck pleasure when Tony finally stepped back and proclaimed it complete.

Steve and Jeffries were less impressed, eyeing it with real concern.

“Are you sure it’ll work?” Steve asked, carefully.

Tony smiled. “Nope.”

“Perfect,” Steve muttered under his breath, turning back to his room to get ready.

Tony rushed a shower and shave then pulled on a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants that would fit nicely in the armour. He barreled out of his room just in time to catch Steve trotting down the stairs, shield strapped to his back once again.

They made preparations in silence. The air of anticipation that had invigorated their first foray into the dome was gone, replaced with unpleasant tension and concern. Tony explained the device to Steve. It was pretty straightforward. They needed to get it fairly close to the pod, then Tony could activate it from a distance by signaling FRIDAY. It was focused so they wouldn’t have to worry about getting irradiated themselves as long as they were far enough away and the device was facing the right direction. 

Steve was a little worried about being able to tell which way was the right way so Tony snatched a sharpie off Jeffries and scribbled a happy face on the safe side and an angry face on the dangerous one.

“Better?” 

Steve didn’t reply, but he very nearly almost smiled. Exhausted by all the tension, discomfort and apprehension, Tony just flicked his bracelets on and stalked off towards the dome, as pieces of the suit assembled themselves around him bit by bit.

Steve grunted as he picked up the device then followed him in.

This time there was no chance for Happy Steve, or Happy Tony for that matter. Tony staunchly stuck to Option One and kept silent all the way to the pod. Steve struggled a few times with the heavy device, but Tony enjoyed his suffering in petty silence, refusing to offer any help.

The pod was still sitting where they left it, determinedly doing nothing at all.

Tony felt his breath catch and his heart start to race as they slipped into the vast caved-in factory. His eyes couldn’t help but drift towards the area of disturbed rubble where he’d unearthed the parasite. The memories of being trapped in his own brain wormed their way to the forefront of his thoughts, his breathing spiraling out of control as he remembered his precious hands under the command of another creature.

“-it here?” Steve’s voice broke through Tony’s thoughts and he snapped to the present, jerking back a few steps. Steve was immediately there. “Tony?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m okay. I just- I’m okay.” Tony tried to shake the rising panic, but it wouldn’t abate.  
  
Steve tensed, hovering for a moment. “Is it safe for you to put the faceplate up?” he asked softly.

It was safe, but Tony considered saying no. He didn’t really want Steve to see him like this, but at the same time, knowing Steve could tell - however he could tell - that Tony wasn’t himself was a strange comfort. Plus, as much as he loved the suit, it could get a little claustrophobic sometimes.

He popped the faceplate up and tried to give Steve an incredulous look. “I’m fine, seriously, stop mother-henning.”

He was pretty sure Steve could hear the waver behind his words, but he just caught Tony’s gaze for a second and then nodded, turning back to the device. It was set up perfectly, about 3 feet from the pod. Tony could see the happy face grinning at them so he gave Steve a confirming nod.

“Good to go, Cap. Let’s give this baby a whirl.”

They scrambled back behind the heavy, metal doors. Tony flicked the faceplate back down so he could more easily control things, giving FRIDAY the order to arm the device. He glanced over at Steve who was openly looking very uncertain. Tony gave FRIDAY the go order and held his breath.

Nothing happened.

Then FRIDAY started spewing out data. Tony and Steve both brought a hand up to cover their eyes as bright sunlight assaulted them. The hazy dimness of the dome had disappeared.

Peering back into the factory, Tony could see the device and the pod still sitting sedately on the floor, unmoved by the experience, but everything else around them had lost its dim, out-of-focus quality and returned to crisp, clear normal. 

They left both objects where they were - Jeffries’ team could deal with transport - and began hiking back towards the alley. As they passed the cheerful distillery Tony was relieved to see the mutated marigolds had wilted completely and lay in the dirt, dead.

They met Jeffries and his team before they hit the command center. It seemed they’d moved in as soon as the force field had vanished. As they gave him the sitrep, Tony felt a deep weariness settle into his bones. His device-building marathon, bad night before that, and emotional turmoil, all combined to leave him tired, irritated and eager to get home.

Both Avengers packed quickly and efficiently. Junior had been left out of the pod-disposal mission so Tony let him drag the case up to the roof to his great delight. Steve was already waiting on the roof when the elevators pinged open and Tony, Junior, and Tony’s luggage made their way out.

Tony gave Junior a sloppy salute, slipped him a random wad of large bills, and nudged him back into the elevator. He and Steve waited awkwardly on the roof while the pilot prepped the chopper for take-off.

“We’re heading back to the compound, right? When is Ross picking you up there?” Tony asked, hoping it sounded casual. “He’s being awfully obliging, flying you hither and thither.”

Steve smiled wryly. “I won’t be taking his plane back, I have my own plans.”

“Why not? Free ride. You could knock back about 700 of those little liquor bottles and put a dent in his credit card.”

“Come on, I'm not an idiot and you’re not either. Despite what Fury suggested, it’s pretty obvious why Ross agreed to bring me here. Either I'd break another law and he'd be able to arrest me for something else, or he'd get the chance to convince me to join the Accords.” Steve shrugged. “No one else could help with this? Vision? Dr. Strange? I saw the invitation for what is was: a trap.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “But don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon. I just need to stop back at the compound to grab some things.”

“If it was a trap why'd you come then?”

Steve looked at Tony like he couldn’t believe he didn’t know the answer. “To help.”

Self-righteous bullshit. 

Tony rolled his eyes and shoved past him towards the helicopter.

The ride back to the compound was a tense one. Tony still felt irrationally pissed at Steve for being cagey about how he saved him from the leech-thing, and Steve appeared to be in no mood to try and appease Tony.

They went separate ways as soon as their feet hit the tarmac, Tony going straight to the workshop to unpack the crate and find a place of honour for the deactivated device, Steve heading off in the direction of his room.

Surprisingly, it was only about half an hour before Steve appeared in the workshop, hair damp from a shower. He hovered in the doorway, oddly uncomfortable until Tony shot him a suspicious look and he rolled his eyes and sauntered in.

“What do you need?” Tony asked, cringing at how weirdly desperate that had come out.

“I - uh…” Steve trailed off as he wandered through the workshop, examining the projects Tony had started since the last time Steve had been here. The way he unerringly focused in on new things and drifted past the old made it clear that he’d paid more attention to Tony’s work in the past than he’d given Steve credit for.

Tony watched him for a while, thinking back on the last few days. He was pretty sure Steve was here to say goodbye. He definitely wouldn’t leave without saying something which was pretty funny considering how much they had been avoiding talking today. 

If this was the last time Tony was going to see Steve, maybe ever, there was one more answer he definitely needed.

“How did you know?” His voice cut sharply through the silence. 

Steve knew exactly what he meant. He stopped his wandering and turned back to face Tony. He considered him for a long moment before speaking. “It had your mannerisms, the way you speak, the way you walk and move, but there was something missing.”

“What? It didn’t remind you that you’re an asshole often enough?”

“It was more than that.” Steve took the deep breath of a man who knew this conversation wouldn't be ending without a fight. “Fear. You're always afraid, Tony. Afraid of losing people, of being trapped, of causing people pain. I can always see the fear in you and that thing wasn't afraid. For some reason, it couldn’t fake that.”

Tony was stunned silent.

“I didn’t see it at first,” Steve continued, “but when we got back to the hotel it was like you, but - but with this part of you excised. It was really disturbing actually.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You hit me with a tranq dart because I didn’t look afraid?”

“It’s not that simple. I’m trying to explain.” Steve cut through the workshop debris to stand in front of Tony. “You have this way of  _ caring _ that comes out as being afraid all the time. Like everything you touch breaks. And you let it rule your life.” Steve sounded like he was pleading with him, but Tony had no idea why. “You built Ultron out of fear, you signed the accords out of fear - ”

Tony cut him off, “So, I disagreed with you on something and that makes me a coward?”

“That's not what I said. You gave up your free will because you were afraid of the responsibility of making a mistake!”

“This wasn't about what  _ might _ happen, Steve. It was about what already had happened! I was trying to keep the team together.” He pointed an accusing finger towards Steve. “You stepped in and Wanda ended up in jail which is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

“She was already imprisoned! You locked her in the tower like a grounded kid.” Steve advanced a little towards Tony, shoulders tight, hands locked in fists.

“She  _ is _ a kid! I was trying to keep her safe.”

“You think the best way to keep people safe is to take away all their choices.”

Tony slammed a screwdriver down on the work table. “Well, it would help me think otherwise if everyone stopped making such crap choices!”

“All I’ve ever done is try to help you!” An air of desperation started leaking into Steve’s voice. “You let your fear drive everything in your life and it’s caused you so much unnecessary pain.”

“Well, thank you, Dr. Rogers. Since it’s clearly your forte, I'll be sure to call you for some therapy after the next time I get mind-raped by a space leech.”

“I saved your life!” 

“You guessed,” Tony hissed, stepping up within a few feet of Steve. “You didn’t  _ know _ .”

“I did know.”

“How?”

“Because I know you, Tony.” There was an intimacy to those words that shot Tony’s heart rate into panicky double-time.

“Fuck that,” Tony ground out. “You ‘know me’ with your Psych 101 analysis and the fact that you've seen me naked?  Well, newsflash: so has most of New York. I don't really give a shit what you think my problem is.”

Steve gritted his teeth. “That’s so beyond the point. You asked me how I knew, that’s how I knew. You can deny it all you want, but I was right. And if I didn’t know you this well you’d still be walking around with a, what was it? A ‘space leech’ in control. Actually, maybe you’d be happier if I’d left it, since you prefer letting everyone else make your decisions for you.”

Tony’s feet moved before he could stop them, driving him up into Steve’s space, mouth opening and closing as angry words wrestled for a chance to be the first out. Steve twitched a little at Tony's closeness, his eyes burning with barely contained anger.

“You can fuck right off.” Tony reached out to shove Steve’s chest, pointlessly of course, but before he could make contact, Steve's hand circled his wrist, halting its progress. His grip was tight to the point of being painful, but he didn't let up, even when Tony stopped fighting its pressure. His fingertips dug into Tony's skin, their eyes locked and Steve opened his mouth a few times, but no sounds came out.

Steve's jaw clenched again and Tony noticed the slight flush that was creeping up his neck. The stubborn asshole was getting turned on by fighting with him. Despite being so angry he thought he might spontaneously combust, Tony couldn't help the cocky smile that flickered across his lips as he realized that Steve was equal parts furious and horny.

As soon as Steve saw the fleeting twitch of Tony's lips, he moved, pressing up against Tony's smaller frame. Invading his space, he used the hand wrapped around Tony's wrist to pull him flush. Tony staggered backwards a few steps, breath somewhat halted by the sudden change in Steve’s mood, before he caught his balance and braced himself against the unrelenting pressure of Steve's body.

Tony's wrist was caught between their chests, Steve's long fingers still wrapped too tightly around it, but the rest of their bodies were pressed tightly together. Tony could feel Steve against him, from the inside of Steve's foot, hooked around the outside of Tony’s ankle, all the way to their connected foreheads. They breathed hard against one another for several long seconds, lips not touching, but sharing air.

The adrenaline shock of fighting followed by arousal left Tony giddy and he couldn't help grinding up a little against the solid line of Steve's tensed thigh. The movement pulled a groan from deep inside his throat as he finally felt a little release of the tortuous pressure they had built between them. Steve echoed the noise as Tony's hip pressed against his erection.

Without warning, Steve dropped Tony's wrist and slipped the fingers from both his hands into the waistband of Tony's jeans. Blood flowed back into his hand with vigour, pinpricks of painful relief dancing over his wrist while his stomach swooped low at the contact of Steve's fingers against the creases of his hips.

“Fuck yeah,” Tony hissed out and suddenly found himself being backed up again, tripping over his own feet as Steve powered him relentlessly backwards. Tony’s back slammed hard against the far wall, missing the arm of the couch by mere inches. Tony was barely able to keep his balance, but Steve's hands gripped his belt tight and didn't let him fall. He still felt overwhelmed and more than a little startled, while Steve made short work of his belt and zipper and wrapped a confident hand around his painfully hard cock.

The sensation made Tony slam his palms against the wall in surprise and Steve pressed forward even harder, hooking his chin over Tony's shoulder to press his forehead against the wall. Tony could feel Steve's shattered breaths against his neck. He was giving in to another Steve Rogers Surprise Handjob when Steve reached up with the hand that wasn't currently vigorously jerking Tony off and pressed it against Tony's chest.

In all probability, Tony had been curling forward unconsciously and Steve meant to relieve the pressure against his own shoulder and hold Tony back. But as soon as his hand spread over the middle of Tony's chest and pushed, Tony shot back to lying on a stone floor, flecks of snow and frozen mud burning his bruised cheek as Steve raised the shield and brought it slamming down on his heart.

Tony sucked in a hard breath, shaking his head as if he could expel the memory. Before Steve could sense that something was wrong, Tony smacked the offending arm away hard and gave the other man a sharp shove. Steve staggered backwards a few steps and stared at Tony, startled.

His blonde hair was mussed and his bottom lip was worn where he'd been chewing at it. His pupils were huge, almost obscuring the blue and Tony was pretty sure he'd never seen anything so goddamn arousing in his life. With a great deal of mental effort, Tony shoved away the intrusive thoughts from Siberia and advanced on Steve.

He gave Steve another shove towards the couch to show his intent, pulling off his shirt and shoving his pants down the rest of the way as he moved. Steve was quick to catch on and followed suit, shucking his clothes and tipping backwards onto the couch.

Steve had a glint of defiance in his eyes that suggested he wouldn't be up for letting Tony run the show for long, but when Tony slid forward and straddled his hips, it disappeared. His hands went to Tony's hips, clutching and releasing them rhythmically as Tony ground into him.

They were both beyond hard and leaking.Tony desperately wanted to feel Steve inside him. Just the thought sent a shiver up his spine which Steve followed with eager fingers.

“You'd better be planning to fuck me, Rogers,” Tony growled into Steve's shoulder. He felt the other man tense a little and wondered if Steve was considering doing the exact opposite just to spite him. The allure must have been too much to resist, though, as Steve's fingers skimmed their way south again.

Tony leaned over, trying to ignore the way Steve teased him, and dug around between the couch cushions. He hoped, probably in vain, that Steve wouldn't remember that a bottle of lube had ended up down there last time they took advantage of this couch. Wishing instead that Steve might think he'd all but forgotten the details of their past tumbles, as he dug around blindly. Steve smirked against the skin of Tony's shoulder though, just as Tony's fingers closed around the plastic bottle and pulled it triumphantly out.

“Shut up.” He shoved the bottle at Steve, scowling.

“I didn't say anything.” Steve shot back, all humour banished. He shoved Tony back a little too hard to give him space to open the bottle and slick up his fingers. There was a brief tussle as Steve attempted to get Tony to lie back on the couch, but Tony smacked his hand away again and glared, hiding the slight panic that flared up at the thought of Steve looming over him. Steve eventually gave in, pulling at Tony's hips to draw them flush again. Steve sucked in a breath when the smooth skin of Tony's stomach rubbed teasingly against his cock.

Tony twitched, startled, when one of Steve's fingers pressed eagerly into him without any warning, and then again when Steve sunk his teeth into the sensitive skin of Tony's shoulder. He ground forward in retaliation and then pressed back against Steve's hand. Together they set a punishing rhythm, Tony fully aware that rolling his hips against Steve just so was almost certainly more frustrating than it was pleasurable for him, and he enjoyed the immature rush of power at having Steve's satisfaction in his control.

Steve got him back for it, adding another finger too soon and too rough, leaving Tony sucking in air around as his teeth dug into the skin of Steve's neck. He slumped forward over Steve's shoulder, letting him work his body open relentlessly and with little care for his comfort.

Steve was rock hard and leaking against Tony’s stomach. He remembered how good that cock felt inside him and he was rapidly working up desperate to feel it again. 

When Tony could no longer take the torment he bucked his hips forward, releasing Steve's fingers, and reaching back to guide himself down on Steve's cock in one smooth movement. Steve gasped out in surprise and gripped both of Tony's shoulders to try and control his descent.  The air was punched out of Tony’s lungs. It was too soon and too rough, but too good to stop and take more time warming up.

Steve's hips bucked forward sending Tony’s stomach leaping like he was on a roller coaster. Steve wrapped an arm around Tony's waist and shifted sideways until he was lying back against the arm of the sofa while Tony still straddled him. Tony wondered briefly if Steve had caught on to his unease with having him on top, but Steve was pawing at him, trying to get his hips rolling again and pretty much all rational thought fucked off for the moment.

The new angle had Tony seeing stars pretty quickly. Steve reached up and wound a firm hand into the back of Tony's hair, tugging him down until he was leaning over Steve's chest, panting desperately into his neck. Steve's hand slid down Tony's spine again, exploring the places where their bodies met. Tony's hips stuttered forward, rubbing his under-appreciated cock against Steve's abs. The combination of Steve pounding into him, his teasing fingers and rutting up against his skin was propelling Tony quickly towards release.

When Steve clenched his hand even tighter in Tony's hair and manhandled him into a harder rhythm, Tony finally couldn't hold back anymore. He dug his nails into Steve's sides, grinding down furiously until sweet relief burst in his core and he came hard, coating Steve's stomach and chest.

Before the last of the waves hit, Steve was surging up, pushing Tony backwards until he was the one pressed flat into the couch cushions. Steve shoved impatiently at Tony's hip until, through the haze of his orgasm, he realized Steve wanted him to turn over. He flipped around and Steve immediately pulled his hips up, rammed his face down into the cushions and drove up into him again, pushing a half-grunt, half-moan out of Tony.

He could barely breathe with the pressure of Steve's hand against his back, holding his face tight against the cushions, but the lack of oxygen was making him feel light headed and floaty in a wonderful way. In the wake of his receding orgasm, he started to feel the soreness of their hasty pace flare up, but Steve was so perfectly hitting his prostate with every thrust that it soon overpowered every other feeling, rocketing further, nearly painful but unbelievably pleasurable, shocks up his spine.

Steve's left hand stayed pressed to Tony's back, but his right snaked forward to wrap around Tony's upper arm, his super-powered fingertips digging in cruelly. Tony could do nothing but suck in gasping breaths and hold onto the couch cushion as Steve chased his own release.

It came as a surprise when Steve finally hunched forward and his rhythm faltered, choking out little noises as he gasped through his orgasm. They stayed pressed together, both stretched taut for a moment. When Steve sat back and released the pressure on Tony’s back, he immediately swung his face to the side and started sucking in grateful breaths. He could hear Steve panting against the back of the couch behind him, but focused on the feeling returning to his, well, everything.

He finally twisted around enough to catch sight of Steve's face and it was horrible. He wasn't looking at Tony, but instead stared off to the side. Steve’s breathing had settled much faster than Tony's so he sat still, his jaw clenched, brow furrowed. To Tony, it looked like pain and anger were warring for control, but had been twisted up and wrapped around each other instead. Tony was just opening his mouth to say something when Steve stood suddenly, grabbed his clothes and whisked out of the room.

Tony sat up and watched him go, stunned. He'd been pretty sure they'd been gearing up for round two of fighting, but the look on Steve's face wasn't frustration, it looked more like disgust. Tony's stomach clenched with something unpleasant and he couldn't help but stare down the empty doorway Steve had breezed through without a look back. His arm was already blooming with purple bruises, but he couldn't feel it. Tony’d had angry sex before, but something about the look on Steve's face made this feel more like a hate-fuck and a lot like a goodbye.

Tony pulled on his pants and collapsed back onto the couch, sitting in silence. More than a few times he opened his mouth to ask FRIDAY if Steve had used his swipe card to leave the compound, but each time he closed it again, not really wanting confirmation of what he already knew.

This was so fucked up. He rubbed his hand over his chest, feeling the mess of scars where the arc reactor used to sit. He was hit with another wave of guilt when he realized that his jab about New York seeing him naked had been crucially false. Besides a team of highly trained doctors and nurses, Pepper and Steve were the only two people in the world who had seen him shirtless post-arc reactor.

It had taken weeks for him to really feel comfortable around Pepper, but it had never even crossed his mind to be self-conscious in front of Steve. He could write it off as not giving a shit what Steve thought, but even as deep in denial as he usually was, he couldn't convince himself of that. If he didn't care what Steve thought, none of this would matter so much.

The sudden chirping of his phone broke him harshly out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts, and FRIDAY spoke up. “Miss Potts calling for you, Boss.”

He waved a hand and Pepper's beautiful face appeared, smiling, on a holo-screen in front of him. “Tony,” she said affectionately. Then one of her perfectly arched eyebrows raised. “Are you naked?”

“Caught me in the middle of a lab incident,” Tony lied smoothly. He leaned over to grab his t-shirt off the floor, shook it out and pulled it on, making it clear at the same time that he was, indeed, wearing pants.

Pepper smiled indulgently, but let it go. “How are you? I wanted to come by sooner and check on you, but I just couldn't get away. Dr. Franks assured me you were recovering well.”

“Oh yeah, fit as a fiddle. Not saying I'm not going to be deeply emotionally traumatized by having someone else playing that fiddle for a while, but I'm fine now.” Steve’s words about fear threatened to wiggle their way back into Tony’s mind, but he firmly ignored them.

“I was really worried.” There was a slight waver to her voice and Tony remembered all two hundred of her reasons as to why they shouldn't date anymore, top of the list being: I can't sit at home waiting for the phone call that says you're dead. 

About six months ago she’d finally moved them from, “on-again, off-again,” to, “We Are Never, Ever, Ever Getting Back Together,” and so far it was sticking. Pepper had even been on a few dates and while he wasn’t quite at, “happy for you,” yet, he hadn’t used his mega-wealth to make anyone disappear in the middle of the night, so he was pretty proud of himself for that.

Tony just gave her a sad smile and she quickly changed the subject. “Happy said Steve was in town. Won't he be arrested?”

“Happy is a gossip.”

“It's true though, right?”

“Yeah, Steve's in town. Or he was. I don't know, he's leaving soon. Ross gave him a pass so we could help Fury out with something hinky in Detroit.” Tony tried desperately to look disinterested, but of course, Pepper knew him better than that.

“Tony.”

“Pepper.”

“What happened?”

Tony broke. “What do you think happened? We screamed at each other for three days, he told me I was 'the only guy he'd ever been interested in,' he saved my life again, cause apparently that's his fucking job, and then he fucked off again.” It was a slightly altered history and Pepper didn't look like she'd been fooled.

“That boy has had it bad for you since day one.”

“What is that even supposed to mean, Pep? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I don't know. I'm just saying.”

“What are you saying?!”

She gave him a look and he snapped his mouth shut and leaned back on the couch. He could feel the hard, plastic top of the lube bottle digging into his back, but he couldn't get away with moving it without Pepper noticing, so he just focused on not revealing all to Pepper with one look, like he usually seemed to do.

“What I'm  _ saying _ ,” Pepper continued, “is that this goes way beyond two teammates who disagree and you know it.”

Tony tapped his fingers against his leg, staring off blankly into the workshop while he rolled her words around in his mind. “We slept together,” he finally blurted out. “A couple times.”

“I know.” Pepper smiled gently.

A sudden horrifying thought struck Tony. “I never cheated on you, though,” he clarified hurriedly.

“I know that too, Tony.”

Tony rambled on. “It was always, you know, in between bouts of  _ us _ .” He gestured between himself and the screen. “He'd show up and go for me and I let it happen. I should have stopped him probably. I always assumed it was whenever he got particularly nostalgic for his old life with the One-Armed Wonder, but he assures me it's just a creepily co-dependent friendship and they weren't Don't Ask, Don't Telling it in their army days.”

“He never told you why he came onto you?”

“We didn't talk much.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I can't believe I'm telling you this.”

“Seriously, Tony, did it never occur to you that he waited for those moments between us, so you  _ wouldn't _ be cheating on me?”

Honestly, no, it had never occurred to him. But that was obviously it. Steve had waited until he knew he and Pepper were broken up and only then did he show up, jaw set and eyes blown, and shove Tony down on his couch. In fact – Tony did some quick calculations – Steve had never come to him during the couple times he and Pepper had gone on a break and not told anyone. It was stupidly obvious to him now.

It was just like him, too. So damn arrogant to think that his dick would charm Tony away from the best thing that ever happened to him. Like Tony wouldn't have been able to say no, so it was up to Steve to protect him and Pepper. Self-obsessed asshole. Tony cursed and Pepper jumped.

“Sorry, Pep, look I gotta go.”

“Are you okay? Seriously, Tony.”

“Probably not, but when am I ever?” He flashed her a smile, but his hand came up of its own accord to rub at his chest and he knew she’d catch the nervous twitch. 

“Look, all I’ll say is: you don’t have to forgive him, but if you can’t, you have to let him go.” 

“I don’t have to let him do anything, he does that all on his own,” he muttered. Pepper just looked at him sadly until he sighed and shrugged. “I really do have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow.”

Pepper pursed her lips. “Yeah, I believe that. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Pepper's face disappeared from the screen.Tony tipped sideways on the couch, burying his face in the soft fabric until the memory of what had transpired there less than an hour ago hit him and he shot to his feet instead, face flushing.

Tony huffed in frustration, grabbed his phone off the table, and marched out of the workshop. His feet carried him automatically to Steve's room. If Steve were still there he had no idea what he was going to say to him, but, unsurprisingly, when he reached the door, it was wide open and the room was empty.

It looked completely unused and untouched. All of Steve's stuff was gone, including the few things that had been there since he’d left looking for Bucky and hadn't come back. The only thing of Steve's that was left in the room was the shield, laid carefully on the end of the bed.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” Tony snapped out, slamming the door, leaving the shield where it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! More to come soon!


	3. Scotch Tape & String

It started with that all encompassing feeling of rage, the need to attack, rip apart, and a rush of adrenaline, bitter and hot. He barely felt the crack of his head against the stone edge. Fingers dug into his neck, ripping the helmet off and leaving his bruised and bloodied face exposed.

Steve's body pinned Tony to the cold ground, the pressure of his thighs squeezing the air out of his lungs. But that was impossible. The Iron Man suit could withstand Steve's strength. Something was wrong. He could feel the melting snow soaking through the back of his shirt, and the rough stone under his bare fingertips. Rage was replaced with desperate, heart-stopping panic.

The shield cast a shadow that hid Steve's face as he raised it high above his head, its metal reflecting the blue glow of the arc reactor embedded deep in Tony's chest.

Tony raised his unprotected arms above his face and Steve's shield came crashing down onto the glowing blue surface of the arc reactor. He could feel the casing bulge then crack between his ribs. The metal splintered, shards ripping through his already damaged heart. His hands fell to the ground as he gasped useless air into shredded lungs.

But it was the look on Steve's face that killed him – the satisfied smirk, the cold, uncaring eyes. He braced a foot on Tony’s stomach to rip the shield free then dropped it next to Tony's prone form and walked away.

And it happened over and over throughout the night. Every time Tony closed his eyes, he was back in Siberia, this time without his armour. And Steve walked away again, leaving him alone to die.

It was two weeks after Steve left before Tony had a good night’s sleep. He either woke repeatedly to horrific dreams or avoided sleep entirely. Finally, it seemed his body couldn’t take it anymore and he dozed off in front of the TV and didn’t stir for 10 solid hours.

The next morning he mentally slapped himself around for lazing about in a funk because a boy - a boy he didn’t even like - had left without saying goodbye. If that wasn’t the saddest thing on the planet, he didn’t know what was. He had work to do, things to accomplish - Rhodey’s leg supports needed redesign number 8 and his SI inbox was bursting with assistance requests.

Steve should be the last thing on his mind right now.

And yet, he wouldn’t leave. Every time Tony felt himself finally getting sucked into work, the memory of Steve’s face on that couch would resurface and punch him in the gut. He was starting to feel about ready to tap out, and tap bourbon in, when FRIDAY gave a polite little chirp, interrupting Tony’s downward spiraling thoughts. “Movement from Miss Maximoff, Boss. She is now back in Wakanda.”

Tony put down the welding torch he was pretending to use and flipped the mask back. “Is she alone?”

“No, she’s staying with King T’Challa.” Tony could feel the hesitation in her electronic voice.

“FRIDAY.”

“Captain Rogers is with her as well, though he seems to be preparing to leave the country.” He really couldn’t get away from him for one goddamn minute, could he?

“Leave? Where’s he going?”

“I won’t be able to track that with my current search parameters. I can add Captain Rogers to your list of updates, if you’d like to keep tabs on him.”

“Wow. That was, like, not at all subtle. What are you, Dr. Phil?” Tony stood up and walked around the workshop, picking things up at random and putting them down again. He made it all the way to the door a couple times, but turned back into the room, finally sinking into his chair and giving in. “Yeah, okay, fine. But keep it broad. Like where he is and who he’s pissing off. I don’t need to know what he has for breakfast or anything.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Knowing FRIDAY was watching Steve gave him a weird sort of peace on the subject. Tony pushed thoughts of Wanda and Steve from his mind, successfully this time, and dove back into work.

He managed three weeks of relative peace. FRIDAY kept him posted, but the updates were few and far between. It seemed Steve and Wanda were settled after all. He focused on Rhodey’s new leg support and when it reached the testing phase he shot his best friend a text.

_Mark 7, come over._

He was just tightening the last screw when Rhodey knocked on the glass door. Tony waved him in, pleased to see his friend was using the Mark 6 exoskeleton and crutches, instead of the wheelchair.

Every iteration was getting better and better - and Rhodey was getting stronger and stronger. Hopefully, in a few months, he’d be able to walk with the leg prosthetics alone.

“How’s it going, Mr. Stank?” Rhodey navigated the messy workshop gracefully and alighted next to Tony’s work table.

“Oh, that’s still a thing? We’re still doing that every time?” Tony tried for light, but the truth was the joke reminded him of the letter that came attached to the delivery man’s mistake. He didn’t know why he hadn’t told Rhodey about it, but every time he tried to explain his painful relationship with Steve he sounded like an asshole, even to himself, or Steve did, and he couldn’t bear it. More things he didn’t care to examine too closely.

“Til the day I die, my friend.” Rhodey clapped him on the back, as Tony straightened up from the table and leaned a hip against the edge. Rhodey looked good - strong, healthy again, though the grey that teased at his beard and temples was claiming more and more territory.

They fell easily into their comfortable rhythm - after this many years of friendship it took real effort to be uncomfortable with each other. Tony set up the new exoskeleton and watched, taking mental notes, while Rhodey strapped himself in, then tested it out

The movement was a lot smoother than the Mark 6. Part of the upgrades were due to Rhodey’s increased strength and control, the other part, genuine improvements to the design. Tony would redesign these every month for the rest of his life, if he had to. It was his fault his best friend had his legs stolen and he would give him back everything he possibly could.

Eventually, Rhodey waved him off, collapsing into a nearby chair to catch his breath. Tony tried to sneak up behind his right knee to twist a loose edge with his pliers, but Rhodey smacked his hand away. “Stop fiddling.”

Tony tipped back until he was sitting on the floor at Rhodey’s feet and pouted up at him. Rhodey shot him a look. “I see you’re still in a foul mood.”

“I am not,” Tony’s pout deepened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been in a funk since that whole thing with the brain slug pod, or whatever.”

“Space leech,” Tony corrected.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “Uhh, yeah sure, I bet that’s the technical term.”

“It is. Very technical. I am a scientist, I use technical terms every day.”

“You called the pliers ‘grippy thingies’ last week.”

Tony stretched his legs out in front of him. He really was too old to be sitting on the floor, but his chair seemed so very far away. “Well, they really should be called that, don’t you think? It’s much more accurate. You grip more than you ply.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“I don’t recall there being a question.”

“I _implied_ the question. What’s eating you lately?”

Tony squirmed uncomfortably. He should tell Rhodey. He would probably give great advice, better than Pepper’s, “ _that boy has it bad for you,”_ crap anyway. Or, if he couldn’t, he’d at least take Tony drinking until he couldn’t remember his own name, let alone Steve’s. But he didn’t. Instead, he shrugged it off, finally pushing to his feet and tidying away his tools.

“That thing had complete control, it was...bizarre. I can’t even describe it. But yeah, I think it might have me a little off for a while,” he admitted, giving Rhodey a little bit so he wouldn’t push in other directions.

“It’s contained though, right?” Rhodey half-joked. “One of those things isn’t going to be slithering into my room in the middle of the night, is it? Not that there’d be much it could do with me anyway.” He gestured to his legs, smiling.

Tony rolled his eyes, leaning over the worktop to pull two beers from the fridge. He handed one to Rhodey then popped his own open, not realizing how thirsty he had been until he took a sip. “No, of course not, we blasted the crap out of that thing. It…” He trailed off, sinking down onto his chair, a thought flaring up into his head like a lighter clicking on.

“Hey, Boss?” FRIDAY piped up.

The thought flickered out again. “What?”

“There’s been an... incident. In London.”

“London? What’s going on?”

“It’s Captain Rogers, he seems to be preparing to invade Hellfire Club territory. Without backup.”

“What the fuck?” Tony spat out, jumping to his feet and nearly knocking over his beer. “The Hellfire Club? What the fuck does he think he’s doing?” He was halfway across the room before he even realized his feet were moving.

“What’s going on?” Rhodey asked, unstrapping the Mark 7 and reaching for his crutches and the Mark 6. “Are you tracking Rogers?”

Tony pivoted a few times, torn. “Sorry, Buddy. I’ve gotta go. It’s just - there’s this thing. The _Hellfire Club._ Shit, what an idiot.”

“Tony, what are you talking about?”

“I have something of his. He shouldn’t be - I need to go.” Tony bustled Rhodey out of the compound and into a town car.

As soon as he hit the air, Tony was filled with doubt. The shield magneted to his back was a heavy weight. He had no idea how Steve would react to seeing him again. They’d had zero contact since that day in the workshop and it hadn’t exactly ended nicely.

He spent nearly an hour fretting and working himself up into a state of peak anxiety as he zipped across the Atlantic. Once he hit the city, he focused on narrowing in on Steve’s location. Friday threw a map up on his HUD and he followed it carefully until an alley came into view.

Tony curved around, slowing as he swung wide and aimed for the alley. He could see tiny Captain America engaged in vigorous hand-to-hand combat with a man in a cop uniform. Even from up here Tony could tell he wasn’t a real cop - his hands were glowing.

The fake cop took a Steve-punch to the face and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Steve snatched up his baton and spun it in his hands. Gunfire broke out from the other end of the alley and he ducked, rolling behind a dumpster.

Tony decided it was a good time for an entrance. He turned sharply and came into the alley hot, managing to land only a few feet away from Steve’s dumpster. He skidded to a halt, using one fist to balance before rising to his feet.

Tony had never seen Steve truly astonished before, but when Tony hit the ground his mouth dropped open and the nightstick fell from his fingers. He was so shocked that he almost didn't catch the shield when Tony lobbed it at him.

“Forgot something, Cap.”

“Tony. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I-” Tony tried for something snarky, but nothing would come. He legitimately didn't know what the hell he was doing there. “...helping?”

Steve just stared some more, until a bullet ricocheted off Tony’s armour and whizzed by, alarmingly close to Steve’s ear. He turned back towards the conflict and slipped his Captain America face back on. No one else but Tony would have seen him run that loving finger along the edge of the shield before sliding the electromagnetic gauntlet over his wrist.

Between the two of them, and with Steve’s shield back in his hand, the Hellions were dispatched pretty easily. When the alley was quiet once more, Tony turned to Steve, mouth open, words building up and ready to fly out, but he snapped it shut, locking them in again.

What Tony wanted to say was _The Hellfire Club? Alone? Really? Are you out of your freaking mind??_ But he could see with perfect clarity the fight that would follow and if he was being at all honest with himself (which he tried not to be) he didn’t really have the right to ask. Steve hadn’t asked for his help, he’d volunteered. If Steve wanted him to know, he’d tell him, but Steve’s business wasn’t his business anymore - if it ever was.

So instead he stared, and Steve stared back. After a painfully long silence, Steve took a step forward. “Um,” was all he got out, but the word was enough to shock Tony into a state of panic.

He didn’t want Steve to ask him why he was there. He didn’t want to have to explain the shield. He didn’t want to say something horrible and watch Steve walk away again. So he saved him the trouble.

“You should be careful messing with Hellions, Steve. Emma Frost doesn’t fuck around.” He fired up the repulsors and blasted out of the alley leaving a still-shocked Steve behind.

The next two weeks were weird. Tony tried his hardest to dive into work and keep his mind away from the Avengers entirely, but FRIDAY’s updates on Wanda and Steve still rolled in, and every time she spoke up, he couldn’t help but wonder what Steve was thinking.

It seemed that Steve was mostly staying out of trouble, but his updates were few and far between. Wanda, thankfully, kept to herself in Wakanda and didn’t stir up any mischief.

Steve went back to London twice (without trouble), pinged in India, then Singapore and then went off the grid in Russia. When a week passed with no sign of him, Tony started to worry. After two, he was pretty freaked out. FRIDAY couldn’t tell him anything so the only way to get an answer, and relieve his tension, was to try and contact Steve himself.

And that meant…

Tony sat down at his desk and staunchly ignored the drawer with every fibre of being. It was exhausting and left little energy or attention for anything else, which is why his cursor was still blinking on a blank design document almost an hour later.

With a great sigh, Tony finally gave in and pulled the drawer open, yanking the phone out and flipping it open for the first time. He could just text him once and make sure he was alive, there was nothing weird about that.

[7 New Messages] the screen displayed.

Surprised Tony scrolled to the oldest one and opened it, sure it must be some random number spam.

_Thanks._

The number it came from was programmed in but without a name. The text was dated two days after Tony had gone to London with the shield. 8 hours later another had followed:

_You’re right, it was stupid. I shouldn’t have gone. I didn’t even get what I needed._

The messages continued on, one every couple of days, for the whole four weeks, right up until yesterday.

_Wanda says hi._

The next was a series of unrelated emojis - Tony wasn’t sure if they were from Wanda or Steve. If Wanda, there was probably some bizarre underlying message Tony was too old to understand. If it had been Steve, it was almost certainly him just trying to figure out how the phone worked.

The next three were fairly recent.

_Do you know the boiling point of maple syrup?_

_I hope London didn’t cause you any trouble. There were cameras in the alley._

_I’m so fucking sick of trees._

It seemed Steve had been reaching out to him pretty regularly. He didn’t seem to mind that Tony hadn’t texted back. Without processing what he was doing, Tony tapped out an answer.

_219F_

He set the phone down and looked back to his work, the shape of the re-design finally flowing smoothly, but it was less than 15 minutes before he was interrupted by the gentle buzz of the phone.

_Thanks, but the moment has passed. I learned that one myself. The hard way._

Tony chuckled, trying to imagine the bizarre situation that would call for that knowledge. The last, rather enigmatic text was too strange to ignore.

_So what did the trees do? Insult your mother?_

The response came instantly this time.

 _They’re just everywhere. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but what I wouldn’t give to see that_ _big ugly_ _building of yours._ There was a pause followed by: _And maybe a Starbucks...._

_I still resent that, btw. That’s why the water in your shower was never hot._

_That’s okay, I prefer cold showers anyway._

Tony realized, with an uncomfortable lurch of his stomach, that they were _chatting,_ even verging on _flirting,_ if they were already talking about activities that one normally did naked. That hadn’t really been his intent, but Steve didn’t seem bothered. The urge to shove the phone back in the drawer and walk away faded.

_What, no venti, soy, caramel macchiatos in Nowheresville, Russia?_

This time the pause was longer and Tony squirmed a little, wondering if Steve would A) be upset he’d been stalking him and/or B) be upset he’d revealed his location through a potentially insecure text.

_I think we all know I prefer a frappacino with chocolate sprinkles. And no. Just trees._

The texting continued over the next few weeks. Steve gave Tony occasional - and usually pretty cryptic - updates on himself and Wanda. And Tony gave Steve someone to talk to, he could only assume.

For long periods Steve seemed to be alone, traveling around the world. He never mentioned what he was doing or looking for, and Tony never asked. He also never mentioned Barnes, and again, Tony never asked. This tentative truce was nice, and the longest they’d ever gone without fighting or...other things.

The psychological relief of not constantly winding himself up into a knot over Steve let loose a dam Tony didn’t even know had been in this mind and he was more productive in the next week as he had been for the last month.

He was elbow deep in updates for Rhodey’s Mark 7 when FRIDAY patched through a call from the lab in LA where the mysterious pod had been taken for further study by Dr. Rai’s team at UCLA. They’d been in regular contact since the pod had been taken away, though not much of interest had come out of the study so far.

“Stark’s Bot Shop,” he answered, not looking up from his work. “Everything is 50% off, except that one in the corner, he’s free.” DUM-E buzzed indignantly. “Well, if you’d stop knocking things over, maybe I wouldn’t be so eager to give you away!”

“Mr. Stark?” It wasn’t Dr. Rai, instead a harried looking man in a lab coat was framed in the large holoscreen that hovered over Tony’s desk. “I -”

“You know, it’s technically ‘Dr. Stark,” Tony cut the man off. “Why does that sound so dreadful?”

“I - I don’t know.” He looked genuinely perplexed, but Tony wasn’t sure if it was the content of the question, or the mere fact that he’d asked it.

“Yeah, me neither. Maybe it ages me? Like when you hear ‘Dr. Stark’ you picture a guy in his 70s, right?”

The scientist just stared.

“I’m sorry, did no one warn you that I’m a dick?”

The man coughed and flushed. “Well, actually…”

Tony laughed, real and loud, and it made him realize how long it had been since he’d done that. “So how can I help you?” He went back to his work, digging a screwdriver violently into the metal plate and attempting to pry it up.

“I’m - I’m Dr. Weber. I’ve been working with Dr. Rai. We’re having a bit of trouble with the, uh, ‘pod,’ and we were hoping we could get some of the raw data you took while examining the first time. We were sent a bunch of results and calculations, but some of these conclusions…” He shuffled papers on his desk. “We’d like to see where they come from so we can look at other correlations.”

Tony waved a benevolent hand. “Sure, no prob. FRIDAY, hook the man up.”

“Thank you. We’ve noticed an increase in density since it arrived and I’m worried it’s exponential.”

Tony put down the screwdriver and looked up at the screen, eyebrow furrowed. “Density?”

“Yeah. We had some team members concerned about a possible black hole, eventually. Obviously not a great thing to have in the lab.” Weber chuckled nervously.

“Huh.” Tony stared. The man shifted under his gaze. He’d had this thought before, when Rhodey was here. Something about density and...heat?

Weber turned the screen a little and Tony could see the pod sitting ominously behind him. It was still _so black._ Even through the screen, it was daunting. Tony swallowed hard, squirming in his seat. He really didn’t want to ever see that thing again.

Weber held a sheet of paper up to the camera, pointing to a highlighted data set. Tony leaned in to see it better. “See here there’s a definite- “

A sound so loud it blew out the speakers on the webcam tore through the room, so startling Tony tripped backwards out of his chair and nearly hit the floor. “Weber?!” he shouted, but there was no response. Weber had disappeared, but Tony still had a perfect view of the pod - or what was left of it.

It was… melting. There really wasn’t any other word for it. And a torrent of those eerily depthless, black leeches were pouring out of it, flooding in all directions. “Fuck! Weber!” he tried again, but nothing. Tony shoved the tools off his desk in frustration, then turned and bolted out of the workshop.

Tony darted for the hangar where his closest suit stood, recently cleaned by DUM-E. His heart pounded, somewhere up in his throat. He skidded around the corner, then screeched to a halt so fast he slipped to the floor.

The suit stood, still and solemn, in the middle of the floor and that deep, empty black was pouring out of it, dripping out of every nook and cranny and seam. Slimy black leeches writhed and swarmed all over his precious armour. Tony scrambled backwards until he hit a wall then pulled his knees up to his chest.

There was something _wrong_ about it. As much as they moved and slid, none of them ever touched the floor. And if he tried to follow one with his eyes it just melted and disappeared into the others.

“FRIDAY, scan the suit,” he choked out.

“Shields, weapons, and repulsors all operating at 100%. No damage or anomalies detected.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time,” Tony mumbled to himself, trying to get his breathing under control. He was fairly sure they weren’t really there, but he couldn’t bring himself to get close enough to check.

It wasn’t the first time his damaged brain had told him there was a threat when there wasn’t, but this time he had no way to check. FRIDAY couldn’t see them and… no one else was here.

Okay, Steve. Steve wasn’t here.

As soon as he thought his name, the horrific churn in his stomach seemed to calm. He had the phone out of his pocket and the number halfway dialed before he even realized what he was doing.

“Tony?” Steve answered almost immediately and Tony took a deep breath, his death grip on the phone relaxing.

“Hey, Steve!” Thankfully his voice sounded nearly normal, if a bit manic. “So remember that pod thingy we irradiated in a very manly showing of superhero power? That was a good time, wasn’t it? Yeah, so it kind of exploded and we have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Where are you?” Steve sounded slightly panicky himself.

“I’m at the comp- oh no, no I’m not with it. It’s in LA, but I was just talking to the scientist in charge and it kinda… went boom. I’m heading there and I just…” Tony trailed off, not sure how to explain that he had completely lost his mind and called Steve because, even though he’d nearly punched him for it, _Steve could tell._

“I’m in Canada, can you get me on the way?” There was a rustling on the other side of the line and Tony could hear soft voices in the background. He had the bizarre, poorly timed, and totally unwelcome thought that Steve might be with a woman, but he pushed it away almost as soon as it popped in.

“Sure, text me the coordinates. I’ll take the Quinjet.” Tony covered the mic and let out a long breath. He glanced over at the suit and it was fine - no leeches, no movement at all. He’d take the Quinjet to get Steve and then he wouldn’t need to get in the suit until Steve was there.

The phone buzzed with Steve’s text. “Got it. See you soon.” He hung up without waiting for a response and pushed to his feet. “Pack it up DUM-E.” He gestured to the suit and DUM-E whirred over with the crate, working with FRIDAY to activate the suit’s collapsing system and get it in the crate.

He jogged over to the Quinjet and by the time he’d done a quick pre-flight check, DUM-E was rolling up, pushing the wheeled crate in front of him. Tony lowered the deck and the bot rolled it right up into the centre bay. “Thanks, Buddy.” Tony shot him a salute. “I’ll be gone for a bit. I want you in bed by midnight every night, no junk food, and don’t let U throw any raging keggers ‘til I get back.”

DUM-E _whirrrred_ and scooted off the jet. Tony read Steve’s text out to FRIDAY and they shot off into the bright sky.

It didn’t take him too far out of his way to swoop up through southern Canada to pick up Steve. Tony didn’t ask him why he was there, just gave him the rundown on what he’d seen in the video call, then lapsed into silence. FRIDAY took over flying the jet and, sick of staring out at the endless clouds, Tony climbed out of the cockpit and slumped down on the seat opposite Steve’s.

It was slightly awkward. The texting had been companionable enough, but not necessarily _friendly_ and it was harder to have that kind of carefully controlled conversation while shoved together on a plane.

He was suddenly struck with the absurdity of calling Steve for help. He should have called Vision, or found Thor, or… fucking _Peter Parker_ would have been a saner choice than Steve. And yet it had been Steve that had popped into his mind in that moment of panic. It meant something that Tony wasn’t eager to explore too much.

For all that the trust between them had been bent and twisted and cracked - Steve still made him feel safe.

Tony felt better with Steve on board, but he could still taste bitter adrenaline, and the crate lurking in the back of the jet seemed about four times larger than usual. The rush of fight or flight came out as twitchy and aggressive in the claustrophobic Quinjet and he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut for more than a few minutes.

Steve was on his phone again, texting vigorously.

“Letting the wife know you’ll be home late?” Tony quipped before he could tell his mouth to shut up.

He knew it was a shitty thing to say. He knew it would piss off Steve, but he couldn’t help himself. Steve shot him a look, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. “Tony-” his voice was painfully condescending and Tony found himself getting preemptively angry in return; he couldn’t help snapping back, cutting Steve off.

“What is with that tone? Like I’m four? What are you going to do, put me on the naughty step?”

Steve sighed. “I might try it, if there were any chance it would help.”

“You know” - words welled up so hard and fast that Tony couldn’t tamp them down - “that’s also how you always talk about the Accords, like I’m a child throwing a temper tantrum.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have acted like one,” Steve mumbled to himself.

“Excuse me? What was that? Speak up. I prefer my insults hurled right at my face, instead of at the floor.”

Steve finally looked up at him, eyes full of ice. “Okay. Fine. You acted like you thought if you yelled loudly enough or hit me hard enough that I would come over to your way of thinking. But we were never going to agree. It would be nice if you could at least respect my point of view here.”

Well, that was a punch to the gut. Howard had always seemed to approach disagreements, at least ones with Tony, the same way. Guess you really can’t help turning into your parents.

Of course Tony couldn’t just say that, he had to say, “I never have time to respect your point of view, before you fuck off again.” He gritted his teeth hard enough to hurt.

Steve pinned him with a glare. “I wouldn’t have had to ‘fuck off’ in the first place, except _your accords_ made me into a criminal for protecting an inno- my friend. I think I’m doing a remarkably good job of not blaming you for that.”

“Oh, you are? So the shield to the chest was just for fun then?”

“You were trying to kill Bucky.”

“Well he wasn’t ‘an innocent man,’ was he, Steve? He killed my mother!”

Steve huffed out a breath, but his voice was calm and careful when he spoke. “HYDRA killed your parents, Tony. HYDRA killed Bucky and created the Winter Soldier. HYDRA stole 70 years of my life from me.”

“And you stole _this_ from me!” Tony didn’t specify what “this” meant. It was too easy, and too scary, to slot “family” in that space after.

“You think I threw it away so lightly? This was all I had!” Steve exploded, leaping to his feet and glaring down at Tony, who couldn’t help but shrink back a bit. “My whole life was ripped away and all I had was this team and – and you, maybe you. And then by some _fucking_ miracle, I had a chance to have Bucky too. Just _one_ thing from my old life and I knew I could handle microwaves and skyscrapers, and your weird bananas. But no, apparently that was too much to hope for. So I had to choose. I could have this family that I had built by hard _fucking_ work, bit-by-bit, or I could have the only thing I remembered from before everything I knew died.

“And it was a horrible choice. The worst I've ever had to make. I felt like I had to tear myself in two, and half of me got left behind here, so I could save my best friend. And the worst fucking part of all of this, the thing that kills me the most is: you're the one who made me choose, Tony."

Steve deflated a little. “If I could have just had you _and_ him, I could have dealt with the rest, we could have made the accords work, we could have figured something out together. But you made me choose. I thought you were going to kill him, I really did.” Steve's voice broke. "I've seen you both die once already. I didn't think I could do it again.”

Steve ran a stiff hand through his hair, shot Tony a pained look, then collapsed back in his seat.

Tony felt the fight go out of him in a great rush, leaving him shaky and uncertain. Something hard and raw tried to crawl out of his throat and he pushed hurried words out instead.“I blamed my dad.” He swallowed hard. “For 25 years, I blamed him for the crash. He was driving too fast, or drunk or something. I thought he killed my mother…” He trailed off.

Steve looked wrecked, eyes fixed somewhere around Tony’s knee.

The anger welled up again and Tony smacked a hand against the seat. “And you know what? It’s still his fucking fault.” Steve’s gaze shot up to Tony’s face. “The whole fucking serum _shit_ . Why was he driving around with that in his car - _with my mom in the car -_ anyway?! He just couldn’t let it go, he couldn’t let _you_ go.” Tony paused, sucking in a hard breath, then letting it all out like a balloon deflating. “Guess it’s genetic.”

“Tony,” Steve started, but then couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say.

And worst of all Tony suddenly felt _sorry_. Not with any real point or direction - just sorry about all of this. Sorry that it was all so messed up and no one seemed able to fix it. “I don’t know what to - I can’t stop feeling this way, Steve. About all of it. I’ve tried.”

Steve contemplated him in silence for a long while, then shifted his gaze back down to the clasped hands in his lap. “I’m not asking you to forgive Bucky. I could never ask that of you. I _am_ hoping that someday you’re able to forgive me though.” Steve paused, then glanced up and caught Tony’s eye. “And yourself.”

Tony fisted his hands in his hair and slipped down off his chair onto the floor, tipping his forehead onto his bent knees. He knew it was childish - he felt childish - but his heart was doing that stuttery thing it did before he would taste metal and start wanting to break things, and he really wanted to head it off at the pass this time. A moment later, he heard a rustling next to him and Steve’s side pressed against his, a warm hand rested lightly on his back.

“What was she like?”

Tony tipped his head back and looked at the smooth metal lines of the Quinjet, felt the rumble of the engines against the back of his head where it pressed against the seat cushion. “It’s not like she’d have won any Mother of the Year awards, but she loved me. She cared, you know. She wasn’t around much, Jarvis - the real Jarvis - raised me, but she did love me. I probably wouldn’t have bothered with a lot of the cool shit I’ve done if not for her.

“I can’t help feeling like we didn’t have a chance, you know? She wasn’t ever going to understand me as a kid, but now? Maybe. Maybe we could have figured it out, but we didn’t get that chance. Looking back she makes a lot more sense to me now.”

They fell silent again but this time it was gentler, softer, easier. Steve’s hand rested tentatively on Tony’s back for a long time, then slowly slipped up to his neck. Tony tipped his head forward again and Steve threaded his fingers through Tony’s hair, scratching a little into his scalp.

“No fair,” Tony whimpered. “You figured out that I like that through nefarious means.”

Steve chuckled but didn’t move his hand. “It’s not my fault you’re so easy to read.”

Steve kept massaging idly, almost like he’d forgotten he was doing it. His eyes fell back to his phone in his other hand and he flipped through news reports as they sat.

Tony couldn’t help but think back to the first time Steve had put his hand there - that first time in his workshop.

He had been caught somewhere between angry and sad, missing Pepper and hating himself for fucking things up - a feeling that would settle a little more deeply each time they parted ways - but was taking his feelings out on a car engine this time, instead of a bottle of whiskey.

He hadn’t heard Steve come in, or walk over, and then suddenly he was right there, standing next to him. Tony couldn’t really remember how it had escalated, but someone had flicked their eyes _just so_ or licked their lips _that way_ and all the dams had burst. Tony’s next memory was of Steve hauling him up on the hood of the car like he weighed nothing, running the same hand up Tony’s now bare back to curl firm fingers in his hair. How he’d groaned and sighed at Tony’s enthusiastic reaction to the touch.

It had been hard and sweaty and fast, and neither had really known what to do or say when it was over, but it was so _them._ This whole hot mess of a friendship - relationship, whatever - summed up by a fantastic, hurried fuck on a broken car hood.

“Why’d you come to the workshop that day, anyway?” he pondered out loud.

Steve’s eyes flicked back up from his phone to Tony’s face. His hand dropped away self-consciously and Tony instantly missed its soothing touch. “Nat told me you and Pepper broke up.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. The idea of Steve lurking around waiting for him to be single was confusing, intriguing, and kinda hot. “Don’t waste any time, do you?”

“No! It wasn’t like that.” Steve looked around kind of desperately, like he’d find a less embarrassing answer pasted on the inside of the Quinjet, and Tony’s lips twitched up. He always enjoyed getting Steve flustered. “I just wanted to check on you. Maybe see if you wanted to go get drunk or something.”

“You can’t get drunk.”

“That’s never stopped you from dragging me along before. I had innocent intentions, I swear.” Steve shuffled, embarrassed.

“So what happened?”

“You were, um. You were listening to music and, uh, singing along while you worked. It - “ Steve cut off.

Tony smirked. “That’s your big kink, Cap? Singing?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No. It was, you know, you. Just you being you. I like you, Tony. Whether you believe me or not. I know we’ll probably never _really_ get along, not easily anyway. But- ” Steve shrugged, like it didn’t matter. Like it being hard was worth it. Like Tony was somehow worth all the screaming and fighting and trying to fuck this attraction out of each other when it got to be too much to deal with.

They stewed in awkward silence while Tony tried to process that. Steve really liked him, he wasn’t just a bit of fun, or cathartic release, or whatever. Pepper was right - of course. And Tony had known that, really, he _had_ known that.

But to hear Steve say it out loud? Like it didn’t taste so horrible to have “Tony” and “like” in the same sentence? That was different.

“And what about the last time, back at the compound? What the fuck were we doing then?”

Steve looked deeply pained and thought for a long time before he spoke. “You put too much stock in me, Tony.”

“What?”

“I know that after I was gone your dad talked about me like I was some scientific marvel - and for him, that was the highest bar one could reach. I feel like it gave you the wrong impression. You expect me to be this, I don’t know, perfect, strong, superhero person. But I’m just a stupid, stubborn kid with- with magic muscles. I’m in the wrong time - I feel like I’m constantly trying to play catch-up, just to get by. I mess up all the time. I’m trying really hard to be a good person, and to have a good life too, and it’s just… it’s not easy.

“I missed you and I was lonely and I was angry. It wasn’t a good choice and I was livid with myself after. I was sure that would be the last time I saw you and I really, _really_ , didn’t want it to be like that. But I also didn’t want it to end with screaming at each other. I knew you wanted me gone, so I left.”

Tony thought back to Steve’s face that day. The horrible, twisted expression. How he must have felt thinking they were leaving things like that forever. “I did want you gone. And it takes two to tango, it’s not like I didn’t push for it. I think I was trying to fuck you out of my system. Fat lot of good that did.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded sadly. “You know, if you’d asked me to stay, I would have.”

“I know.” Tony really did believe him. Even with the threat of Ross hanging over his head, all he had needed to say was “wait” and Steve would have stopped in his tracks. He proved that by being here now. “I never would have asked though, even if I had wanted you to.” Steve looked as close to crying as Steve ever got and it was making Tony feel deeply uncomfortable. “To be fair, though. We are really good at that.”

“What, screwing each other over?” Steve asked.

“No, I was thinking, giving each other orgasms - but yeah that too.”

Steve almost smiled, but then looked sad again. “It was all a mistake. Every time. Because… because I thought I was only hurting myself, torturing myself with getting almost what I wanted, but not enough. I didn’t realize I was hurting you too because I thought it wouldn’t mean anything to you. I was sure every time, that time would be the last. That you’d go back to Pepper for good, get married or something.”

“Honestly? I thought it didn’t mean anything to me either.” Tony remembered the way Steve had kissed him on the elevator. Everything they’d done together was just a sad, endless string of goodbyes. Thinking about it was making Tony feel kind of sick, and the thought of Steve waiting around for him to be available again - for however short a time he got - didn’t seem cheeky or controlling anymore, it seemed heartbreaking.

Steve took a deep breath and then spoke again. “It wasn’t Bucky I was texting, it was Wanda. Bucky is… Bucky is in Wakanda. He decided to put himself back in cryo until we can find a way to erase the programming. He’s terrified of what might happen if someone else gets a hold of the trigger words.”

Suddenly it was all clear. “That’s what you’ve been doing. Looking for a psychic to help you. The Hellions, it was Emma Frost.”

Steve nodded solemnly. “Yup. No luck so far.” He paused and Tony tried to look conciliatory - he knew what it meant to Steve to give up Bucky’s vulnerable location. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am so, so sorry for not telling you about your parents. I knew it would hurt you to find out, and I didn’t want to hurt you. It was selfish. But stopping you in Siberia? I wouldn’t change it. Bucky’s trapped, you hate me, but you’re both still alive. I wouldn’t change it, Tony. Even if you can never forgive me - at least there’s a chance. If I’d let you hurt each other, I know I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

Again, Tony wanted to say it, and this time he really believed it. “I don’t hate you.” He wasn’t sure what else he could say, or if there could be a second half to that statement at some point, but for now, it felt like progress. “If I see him, at least now, if I saw him, I’d probably try and do exactly the same thing again. But, if you get him out, send me the specs. I can make a new arm. Way better than that soviet shit.”

Steve turned to him in surprise, but Tony avoided his gaze, picking at an invisible spot on his jeans.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“For you,” he added hurriedly. “Not -”

“Yeah, I know. I just - thank you. That would mean a lot to me.”

FRIDAY saved them from any awkward “hugging it out” by announcing loudly that they were approaching UCLA. Tony sprung to his feet and leaned over the console to look outside. Steve pressed in next to him, but Tony barely noticed, eyes glued to the streets below.

Everything looked normal and untouched, but as they swung in low through downtown Santa Monica Tony’s jaw dropped.

The pod had been taken to the pathology lab so Dr. Rai’s team could work on it. 16th street was empty while the corners at either end were packed with panicking people. The quad of the medical school swarmed with dark shapes and even over the rumble of the Quinjet engines, Tony could hear screaming. FRIDAY touched them down on a corner of the medical school campus.

Tony took a deep breath and after a reassuring glance at Steve, flipped the top off the crate DUM-E had packed for him. The suit lay quiet and unassuming - red and gold with no hints of the light-sucking black.

He flicked his bracelets and the suit assembled quickly around him. The faceplate dropped down and the HUD lit up “FRIDAY, full diagnostic,” Tony gasped out immediately, reminding himself to keep breathing.

“All systems go, Boss.”

“Okay, here we go,” Tony said quietly to himself and then looked up to find Steve, cowl on and shield in hand, watching him carefully. He raised his voice. “Here we go!”

The back of the Quinjet popped open and they rushed out into the street.

No one seemed to have noticed their arrival - too occupied with their own fear and panic. One entire side of the laboratory complex had been blown apart and the street was littered with bricks, dust and the sad, broken remnants of science projects in progress.

Tony’s heart skipped several beats when he caught sight of a group of those eerie, black puddles moving slowly but surely across the pavement. Whether Steve had noticed some stiffening to his shoulders, or a break in his gait, he didn’t know, but for the briefest second a gloved hand clapped against the shoulder of the armour. Tony took strength from the touch, then pulled away. He skirted around the leeches and into full view of the street.

Smack dab into a huge, alien, bug monster.

He yelped and staggered backwards. Steve had drifted off to the north side of the street to examine the lab, but at Tony’s yell he spun back around and started running. Tony brought up a hand and shot his repulsors madly, still lurching away, trying to find his balance again.

Steve’s shield suddenly sliced through the air - and the alien - swinging in a graceful arc before returning to Steve’s hand.

Well wasn’t he just Mr. Perfect. Tony shot him a look, which he obviously couldn’t see behind the faceplate. That was probably all for the best, actually.

He bent down to examine the creature. It had stood nearly seven feet tall and had six legs, but had only been walking on four of them, the other two waving in the air. It had a multi-segment body and large bulging eyes. Four antennae sat in a ring around the top of its head. It was the same absolute black as the pod and the leeches, but its whole body was covered in tiny hairs which destroyed the impression of edgelessness the others had, giving it instead a weird, out-of-focus effect. It reminded Tony of the creepy flower he’d encountered in the dome in Detroit, but in giant bug form.

“What is it?” Steve asked, sounding surprisingly out-of-breath.

Tony shrugged, a gesture that didn’t come across as clearly through the armoured plates of the suit. “I don’t know, but it has features in common with what we’ve already seen so I’d say same planet at least?”

“There are more,” Steve suddenly called out, a tense edge to his voice, and Tony jerked to his feet. A whole wave of bugs swarmed down the street, pouring out of the gap between the buildings of the medical school.

They met the wave of bugs together, shield and repulsor ripping through alien insect flesh. They took out twenty between them before there was a break in the onslaught. They turned to head back towards the lab, but a voice called out in fear and, as one, they spun around towards it.

A young woman - a student probably - was screaming and staring down at her arm. Tony choked on air when he realized one of the leeches was slithering up towards her shoulder. Tony hit the air as Steve broke into a run. She shook her arm, trying to dislodge it, but it had no effect and they were too far away to help.

It made it to her neck just as Steve reached her, Tony landing at his side mere seconds later. Her eyes went briefly slack and then she blinked up at Steve. He spun her around harshly, pushing her hair away from her neck at the spot where Tony now sported a scar - but the thing was gone.

“Ma’am? We need to get you to a hospital.” Steve gripped her forearms and tried to meet her gaze.

Tony reached out to her. “I can carry her to - “

He was cut off by a horrible choking noise and the woman’s knees buckled. Between him and Steve they held her up, but foam poured out her mouth and her pupils dilated until the ring of colour became entirely black. Steve made desperate little noises, shaking her gently in frustration but she slumped in his arms, colour fading from her skin, mouth falling slack.

He laid her on the ground. The cowl obstructed his features, but Tony could see the hard set to his jaw. He crouched down next to Steve, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. Feeling guiltily grateful that the leech that had taken him, hadn’t chosen to do the same.

He reached out to gently close her eyelids over her blank, dead eyes and she _exploded_.

Tony and Steve both rocketed backwards; Steve automatically lifted the shield up while Tony threw an arm over his face even though the faceplate would protect him just as well. When he hit the ground, he lowered the arm and stared.

One of the bug aliens stood where the girl had been only moments ago. It was fully-formed and full-sized, but twisted in on itself in an awkward way and covered in something dark, shiny, and upsetting. The woman was… gone. Tony tried very, very hard not to think about where she had gone and what was now peppering the road in a ring around the freshly created alien.

It unfurled itself slowly, carefully testing its limbs. Steve didn’t give it time to figure out its new self, before he whipped the shield across the street with unbelievable force. The alien all but burst, its segmented parts joining the debris that already littered the asphalt.

Steve turned back to face Tony, fury radiating off his shoulders, the Captain America suit stained dark in several places.

“Life cycles,” Tony gasped out, not realizing until now that he’d had the breath knocked out of him. He hauled himself to his feet. “The leech is a life stage and the bug is another one. They need a host, or bl-blood or something to fuel the transformation.”

They didn’t have time to discuss it before another wave of bug creatures swarmed out of the lab and made a beeline for the two.

“So each one of these was a person?” Steve asked carefully. Tony didn’t answer, just turned his head towards Steve slightly, then slammed into the first bug to reach him, ripping two of its arms off with the power of the suit and his own rage.

The bugs weren't very smart but they were big, strong, and unbelievably efficient at attacking in groups. Without any obvious method of communication, they formed perfectly executed lines and attacked in a wave pattern, one after the other. It was relentless, exhausting, and even though an individual bug was fairly easy to dispatch, it was a tactic that Tony couldn’t help but see would eventually overwhelm them.

Steve was already panting and grunting with every swing of his shield and Tony could feel his old muscles protesting the effort he was putting into maneuvering the suit quickly. The knowledge that each one had been born from the body of a dead human wasn’t exactly uplifting as well - though it certainly was motivating in the worst of ways.

Motivation or no, they could kill every alien as it swarmed up, but there seemed to be no end to them and eventually Tony and Steve would tire. As one they maneuvered themselves between two buildings, bottlenecking the bugs into one line out front and covering their backs. Steve seemed to be losing his patience along with his stamina. He hit one of the creatures hard in the midsection with his shield, but it scurried back up and came at him again.

“Die already, you ssss- ” Steve wrestled with the bug, and with a few suggestive first syllables, before finally snapping out, “You _sausage_.”

Tony laughed despite being knocked off his feet by two incredibly well-coordinated creatures. “What did you just call me?” he couldn’t help but call out.

Tony could feel Steve’s eye roll from several feet away, but he didn’t say anything. He flicked his wrist, slicing the edge of the shield through the space between the thing’s bulging eyes and finally put it down for good.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Tony pressed his palm to the chest of the bug monster looming over him and fired, sending green insect guts spewing across the sidewalk. “So you can say ‘fuck’ three times on the plane while reaming me out, but the giant, alien, death beetle gets ‘sausage.’” Good to know where I stand.”

Steve chuckled, but cut it off with a gasp as one of the aliens dug angry mandibles into his shoulder, drawing blood. Tony started up to help him, but Steve shook it off on his own and dispatched it with a hard hit to the head.

Still, this was eventually going to prove too much for them. Every time one of the things got a hit in, they were weakened and without realizing it they’d been pushed a fair ways back into the alley. It started feeling less like a bottleneck for their attackers, and more like a trap for them.

They had to cut off the source somehow.

“Stay. Down.” Steve punctuated each word with a smack from his shield, growling out more near-swears under his breath.

“Were 90’s infomercials part of your assimilation studies, Cap?” Tony shot off his feet into the bug frontlines, frying several more beasts. “Cause there has _got_ to be a better way.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Oh, is the genius idea up to me again? I was kinda hoping it might be your turn.”

Steve slammed the front of his shield into a bug, sending it staggering backwards. The line broke and reformed around it seamlessly. It would almost be beautiful if it wasn’t so aggravating. “Nope, I’m just the brawns, you’re the brains, sorry.”

Brains... There was something though...something about the way they moved. “Steve? I think they’re a hivemind…”

“A what?”

“A hivemind…” Tony blasted off and circled the creatures, turning suddenly to blast through their ranks and watching as they reformed in his wake. “They’re connected with their minds. They don’t think for themselves.”

“Can we use that?” Steve grunted as he rolled under a pair of grasping limbs.

“I don’t know. Maybe…” Tony tried to apply half his energy to fighting off the creatures, and half to solving the issue at hand. “Maybe they’re not alone. They’re young, they’re still...growing. If they’re connected to, I dunno, a mothership out there somewhere, it could be giving them direction. Maybe if we disconnect that, they’ll be crippled. And the only thing I can think of that might be broadcasting a signal is the pod.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do I sound sure?”

“No.”

“Yeah, that’s because I have absolutely no idea. But it’s worth a try. It’s the only thing I can think of.” It was desperate and possibly crazy, but fending off endless swarms of aliens while the leeches slithered out into the city, making more and more bug monsters, was even crazier.

“So we have to get up into the lab.”

Tony landed next to Steve so they were fighting side-by-side. “Yup. And I guarantee these guys aren’t going to be pleased about that. We’re going to get mobbed, and in a small space.”

Steve nodded, still focused on the battle in front of them. Tony raised an arm and fired a blast across Steve’s chest to take out a bug on his other side. When he fired again, Steve tipped his shield up, catching the blast to redirect it to another target next to Tony.

It was a move they’d done a thousand times and one that Tony had never given much thought to before, but the flat side of the shield facing him and the burst of sparks when it connected with the repulsor beam felt like a punch to the gut and he folded, tripping backwards.

Steve immediately spun the shield so it faced the aliens instead and shifted to stand between Tony and the attacking frontline.

“Tony!” he called out, risking a glance back.

“Fine! Fine. Just one sec.” Tony pushed himself to his feet and tried to shake his head loose of the pounding adrenaline and the memory of snow burning his cheek.

It hurt in a new way this time, knowing there was still this divide between them, a hole in the trust they’d been patching together with scotch tape and string. And for the first time, Tony wasn’t angry at Steve for making him feel this way, he was mad at himself for not being able to _just get over it already._

He didn’t want to be scared of Steve. And he didn’t want to carry this anger around forever - a heavier weight than the shield. He didn’t have to live through the pain and conflict of losing his parents all over again. The people responsible were long gone and it wasn’t fair to blame Steve for that because he was here and no one else was.

Steve had lied to him. And it hurt. And he was angry. But Steve had also come back and he’d tried. He hadn’t just shrugged his shoulders and walked away, thrown Tony away. He thought Tony was worth trying for. And he wasn’t all the way there yet, but he thought Steve was worth trying for too.

Steve reached a hand back and Tony grabbed it without hesitation and used it to pull himself to his feet. “Hold on, Cap.” He grabbed the straps on the back of Steve’s uniform and turned his forward momentum into a repulsor-blast-supported leap into the air.

Steve made a high-pitched, startled noise, but they both pretended he hadn’t. Tony shot them out of the alley and spiraled them up high in the air to give him a moment to explain. “I’m going to aim for the third floor of the lab, from the outside. The wall is busted out, I think we can get pretty close. If we can get in, we can barricade the door and hopefully hold them off long enough to figure out if we can do anything with the pod.”

Beneath them, the creatures whirled and flowed like water gathering in tidepools.

“Okay, let’s go.” Steve nodded.

Tony firmed up his grip on Steve’s uniform and tipped into a dive. They slipped neatly through a broken gap in the bricks and landed on the cracked and pocked floor of the medical sciences building. The drywall had been shredded and electrical wires hung tragically out of the gouges. The remains of the scientists who became the leeches’ first meals were scattered about and neither Tony nor Steve let their eyes linger there too long.

They could hear the pounding rush of the bugs outside forming up and pressing into the building, seething up from the lower levels to where they stood. They jogged down the halls, dipping their heads into open doors, trying to orient themselves.

“Here!” Steve called from a few doors down the hall. Tony caught up to him and looked inside. The room was the one he had seen through the video chat. The webcam he’d been looking out of still sat on the desk in the corner, pointed towards the pod.

The pod had partially burst to release the leeches but the bottom half remained intact. Tony was surprised to find himself grateful for that. It meant they had something to destroy. Even if it didn’t help, at least it would feel good to fuck up this stupid, blackest, black _shit_ that had been haunting him for far too long.

He cast his eyes around the room, looking for something that could help him do as much damage as possible to the pod. Steve hovered by the door, clearly listening to an advancing mob that Tony’s hearing wasn’t fine enough to pick out.

There was a collection of canisters in one corner and Tony walked over to paw through them. He grabbed a large, heavy one and rolled it over “CryoCel Nitrogen” the label read.

Oh.

_Nice._

“I have a plan!” he called out gleefully, but Steve just grunted, half leaning out the door now.

Tony left the stressing to him and focused on the job at hand. He didn’t want to touch the pod - last time he’d touched something similar it hadn’t gone very well - but he could pour the liquid nitrogen on it and then shoot it with a repulsor if need be.

He opened the tank carefully, prying off the safety cap. There was a loud noise at the door and Steve called out a warning. Tony looked up to see that the endless ranks of aliens had arrived, pressing up against the door. They overwhelmed Steve quickly and several shoved past into the room, trying to surround him.

Well, it was now or never.

Tony hauled the tank up and leaned over the pod, pouring it onto the horrible, black surface. The nitrogen pooled and spilled, quickly covering the pod. For a painfully long breath it did nothing but hiss and then a loud crack sliced through the room.

Tony jumped back several feet. It continued to crackle and pop for a moment and then all in one moment it shattered, covering the floor in thousands of glass-like shards of the mysterious black material.

As one the creatures screeched to a halt and raised their antenna towards the sky. It was an eerie display and Steve and Tony both lurched away from those closest to them. The bugs stayed perfectly still for several seconds.

And then they panicked.

The group exploded in a frenzy, surging forward into the room until Tony and Steve were both drowning in a tsunami of insect hysteria.

“Steve!” he called, flailing wildly under the weight of the writhing insect bodies.

“Tony!” His voice barely made it across the short distance between them - too muffled by the relentless pressure.

He tried shooting his way clear with his repulsors, but the bugs were so wild they’d started to pile up on each other and the dead bodies added more weight to the surge against them.

They weren’t going to make it out of here without help. Or something big. Maybe something… boomy. Tony scrambled to his hands and knees, shoving aside the creatures as best as he could. He scanned the shelves along the wall until he found it: a collection of white tanks with coloured, diamond-shaped stickers on the side.

Whatever they were, they were very high-rated for flammability and instability. It was a horrific gamble, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He raised his hand, waited until FRIDAY gave him the okay, then fired.

He must have blacked out briefly because Tony honestly didn’t remember going from firing the repulsor to lying face down in the street, atop a pile of dust and wall bits. All was quiet and still.

“Okay, that might have been slightly boomier than intended.” He groaned and rolled onto his back, his shoulder screamed in pain - he must have wrenched it pretty badly on the way down. “Steve?” There was no answer.

“Steve?” He hauled himself up and crawled across the debris to the unmoving huddle of red and blue that lay half-buried under a pile of bricks.

He wasn’t moving.

He _really_ wasn’t moving.

Tony put a hand on his shoulder, wanting to see his face, but not wanting to move him too much if he was badly hurt. “Oh shit, he’s not breathing. FRIDAY is he breathing?”

There was a terrifying pause. “No respiration detected.”

“Fuck. C’mon Steve. We kind of almost figured things out. Don’t die. It’s such a dick move.” Tony pushed the bricks off and rolled him over as gently as possible. He was limp and his face was slack.

He flipped up the faceplate and pressed his ear to Steve’s chest, but he couldn’t hear anything. He was opening his mouth to ask FRIDAY which emergency services were closest when Steve’s cheek gave a tiny twitch. Tony stilled, waiting.

Then his chest heaved up once and fell again and Tony let out a desperate squeak in relief.

“Steve, c’mon.” He gave him a nudge. “We gotta go, buddy.”

Steve took another breath, then his eyelids fluttered open. He coughed and rolled over. “I’m okay,” he gasped out, not really sounding okay at all. “Just got the breath knocked out of me.”

“Got the consciousness knocked out of you too,” Tony added. He sent a silent thank you up to whoever looked out for fucked up superhero types, then curled an arm around Steve’s waist. “Up and at ‘em.”

Steve staggered to his feet, clutching Tony and wincing in a way that suggested he was holding back from wincing quite as much as he’d like to.

There was a loud rumbling sound and Tony started, spinning around to face the threat, tucking Steve up against his side.

A massive hoverjet was sinking down onto the other end of the street. Fury.

As soon as it hit the asphalt, a hatch popped open and agents started swarming out, Jeffries leading the way.

“Perfect timing!” Tony gave them a saucy wave as they made their way over. “All the hard stuff is over. We got blown up and Steve had a building dropped on him. But by all means, swoop in now and save the day!”

Jeffries gave him a hard look, but Steve’s fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder and when he glanced down the lines of agents, he could see Junior sniggering in the back row.

The explosion seemed to have taken out the bugs in the lab, but a few waves had broken out into the city earlier and were now panicking amongst the populace. For all Tony’s whining, it certainly was a relief to see the surge of agents forcing the remaining, scattering bugs into some semblance of order. They decided to push them out towards the ocean and see if they could either use it as a way to contain them, or even drown them in the salt water and be done with it.

Agents in special hazmat suits appeared, scouring the city streets, looking for any remaining leeches. The emergency vehicles finally arrived and EMT’s were pouring out frantically, hunting down the wounded.

Tony called Junior over as his unit flowed past and gestured to the Quinjet. “Set that up with whoever needs it. You can fit about 30 or 40 wounded in there and get them out quick. Just make sure you fill up the tank before you bring her back. She takes premium.”

Junior nodded, wide-eyed, then scurried off.

“That was nice, Tony, but how are we going to get home now?” Steve shifted a little more of his weight and Tony shot him a worried look.

Tony started to reply, but as he opened his mouth, he scanned the street around them and a dark shape skittered around a building caught his eye. “Hold on.” He hustled across the street, Steve making a valiant effort to keep up.  

They turned the corner and an angry, confused bug darted out from behind a dumpster. Tony dumped Steve, somewhat abruptly, against the wall and charged forward. His shoulder screamed in protest and his first shot went wide. The bug advanced in a wild rush and Tony ducked and backed up a few steps, twisting around to shoot again at its back. This one hit its mark and it collapsed in a puddle of hairy limbs and antenna.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief and sunk down to the ground, breathing through the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He glared at the bug and couldn’t resist the urge to kick out at it with his boot.

It twitched.

Tony gave a very manly screech and scrambled backwards, firing a repulsor towards it, willy-nilly before realizing that it wasn’t alive, it was just a muscle spasm: the last burst of energy shooting through its system.

He looked up, over it, and Steve was _laughing_ , the _asshole_.

“Hey,” Tony whined, and that only made Steve laugh harder.

It didn’t take long to infect him too, peals of semi-maniacal laughter welling up out of his chest. Eventually, the giddiness faded and Tony staggered over to slump against the wall where he’d deposited Steve so they sat side-by-side on the concrete, dirty, bloodied, _alive._

“Thanks,” Tony said suddenly, letting the word out as soon as it formed, before it tried to crawl back in again. Steve looked at him, curious. “I called you, freaking out, and all you wanted to know was where I was, how you could help. Thank you.”

“I made a promise, that if you needed me, I would come,” Steve prodded Tony's shoulder until he lifted his gaze. “If you needed me for _anything_.”

Tony couldn't help but hear the innuendo, whether it was meant or not. “Are you hitting on me right now, Rogers?”

Steve looked surprised, then chuckled, then shot Tony a cheeky grin. “Would it work if I did?”

Okay, now they were definitely flirting. Tony raised an eyebrow and felt himself flush a little, a familiar twinge low in his stomach. “Um, apparently, yes.”

Steve laughed outright, leaning sideways into Tony, just a little bit. Tony smiled and tipped his face up to the sky. He’d missed that SoCal sun. “You know I have a place, right around the corner,” he joked. “It’s mostly been blown up, but there’s a very cosy, little garden shed that seems to have survived.”

Tony turned his face away from the daylight to find Steve’s grin was even brighter. “What, that battle wasn’t enough for you?“

“Are you making a disparaging remark about my stamina? Rude.”

Steve snorted and sat up a little taller, rolling his shoulder and stretching his arm out tentatively. “Of course not, I’m just saying you’re looking a bit the worse for wear, that’s all. Not sure you’d be up for it.”

“Me?” Tony shot him an incredulous glance. “At least I didn’t lose consciousness for like an hour and a half - without breathing.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you made that up. I don’t remember it at all,” Steve scoffed. He was getting a bit of his colour back.

“Of course _you_ don’t! You were too busy being dead.”

“I think the correct term is ‘temporarily unalive.’”

“Don’t you ‘technical term’ me. I’m the king of technical terms.” Tony pouted, shifting against the wall. He should really get up - they should leave. The Cap was out of the bag in terms of keeping Avengers’ involvement on the down low. Fury was going to be pissed, and Ross even more so.

Steve was looking better and better as his superpowered healing kicked in, but Tony was feeling worse and worse as his body finally registered the beating he’d put it through. “Ugh. This one sucked.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to blame it all on you, I’ve decided,” Tony informed him airily.

Steve nodded. “Adding it to the list?”

“Yeah. Don’t think I’m not going to get you back for it at some point.”

“Well, you already punched me.”

“You deserved that.”

“Yeah, fair,” Steve conceded. “But that was your one, you don’t get another freebie.”

“No problem, I don’t want one.” Tony lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I think I knocked something permanently loose with that. I’ll think of something else for next time.”

Steve’s smile widened. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to - ”

Junior suddenly appeared at his side, cutting Steve off before he could finish his sentence “Ross is on his way here, I think he’s gunning for you, Captain Rogers.”

Tony felt a brief burst of pride that his little pal was marching around getting things done and sticking it to the man. He was going to grow up to be a proper little agent, someday. He hauled himself to his feet and snapped the faceplate down, then held a hand out to Steve. “Want a ride?”

Steve grinned. “Sure.”

Steve grabbed his hand and Tony pulled him up. He could tell Steve’s healing abilities had already started to kick in - he was holding himself up more easily and pain was no longer twisting his features. Tony shot Junior a salute, wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, and blasted off.

While they flew he got FRIDAY to page the airport and prepare one of the planes he still had stored here from his time in Malibu to take Steve back to Wakanda.

When they hit the tarmac, Tony deposited Steve on his feet then activated sentry mode and stepped deftly out of the suit. The plane was already fueled up and ready to go, waiting only for its lone passenger.

And Tony didn’t want Steve to go.

Maximizing the “how much more fucked up can we get” quotient, Tony could finally admit that he wanted Steve to stay - and he couldn’t. He frowned at the plane and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, avoiding looking at Steve, though he could feel the other man’s eyes on him. Eventually, he gave in and turned towards him.

Steve just smiled, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, pulling him in for a hug. Tony stiffened at first, then relaxed into it, trying to subtly burrow his face into the warm comfort of Steve’s chest. They stood that way for a long time until Steve stepped back, pressed a firm kiss to Tony’s forehead, whispered, “if you need me for anything,” and turned away towards the plane.

But Tony reached out on impulse and grabbed his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. He wanted to say something. He wanted to say, “ _you’d better come back,”_ and also, “ _but don’t bring that metal-armed Borg wannabe with you_ ,” but he managed to bite his tongue this time.

He wanted to make it clear to Steve, just in case, that while he still didn’t know the shape of this forgiveness thing he was trying to build, he was _trying_ dammit and that had to count for something.

He wanted to tell Steve that he would miss him - even though he still got so angry at him sometimes that he thought he might end up setting fire to the compound and moving to Madagascar.

He wanted to show Steve that he didn’t want him to go this time. But also, for this goodbye, he wanted to end on something nicer than they ever had before.

So he kissed him.

They’d shared a lot of kisses in their time together - almost all hurried slides of tongues, panting breath, and nipping teeth. This one was chaste, closed-lipped and quick, but heartfelt.

Steve leaned into it, just for a moment, and then he pulled back. He let out a small sigh and Tony let his hand drop from Steve’s sleeve. There was nothing else he could say.

With one last look, Steve turned and climbed the steps into the plane, leaving Tony standing alone on the tarmac, with the Iron Man suit standing at attention beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	4. Epilogue: Artistry

Tony tapped his foot impatiently against the leg of his chair and glanced down at his phone for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. The man directly across from him (whose name he absolutely could not remember) shot him a stern look. Tony shot him a little wave, before glancing down at his phone again to find nothing.

He was considering putting his phone away and actually paying attention to the rest of the investor's meeting - or at least paying attention to the legs of the woman who was currently speaking - when it gave a subtle buzz in his hand.  _ Finally. _ He scrambled to check it, but then frowned.

He rotated his phone a couple times, staring. He flipped to the texting app and typed out a quick message.

_ It looks like a sick cat. _

_ Screw you, the screen is really small. _

_ Didn't you used to be an artist or something? I know you can do better than this. _

_ I didn't want to make it too easy for you. _

Tony smiled and switched back to the slightly flattened, unwell-looking feline on the drawing app. Four letters from E T E N O O R Y U V W I.

It had angry teeth...YETI. 

The app tossed up digital confetti and rewarded him with a bunch of points.

_ I'm kicking your ass, Rogers. _

_ No you're not, we're even. _

_ Maybe in points, but I'm still better than you. _

Tony flipped back to the game and had to turn a laugh into a cough when his next word popped up: ELEVATOR. 

Grinning ear-to-ear, Tony pulled out his stylus and began sketching his best rendition of a stick figure giving another stick figure a handjob. There was a startled cough to his left and he glanced up to see his table neighbour looking hastily away and flushing deeply.

He leaned over and whispered, “Just playing Pictionary with my grandma.” The other man firmly avoided looking his way, coughed again, and slid his chair a few feet to the left. Tony glanced around the room and caught Pepper's eye. She was giving him The Look. He attempted to look bashful, apologetic, and likely to buy her shoes all at once, and then returned to his drawing.

He added a star to the chest of the stick figure giving the handjob and a little up arrow above their heads, then hit, “Done Drawing.” Steve texted back almost immediately.

… _ Tony. _

But then the app buzzed, only a few seconds later, letting Tony know the word had been filled in correctly.

_ I'm touched you remember, Cap. _

_ You're awful. _

_ I make up for it by being very rich and handsome. _

_ Well, you're certainly rich. _

_ Hey. _

They traded a few more drawings, back and forth, over the next hour, and then Tony’s phone went still again, for a long time. Steve's next drawing took so long, the meeting was over and Tony was back in his office before his phone buzzed again - twice in rapid succession. He read the text first, before opening the drawing.

_ Something's come up. I'll be offline for a bit. _

_ Backup? _

_ Nah, we're good.  _ A brief pause. _ Thanks. _

He closed the text window and switched back to their game, opening Steve's latest drawing. It was a wonderfully detailed and well-drawn rendition of Iron Man, mask down and hand up, repulsor starting to glow. He snapped a screenshot before starting work on the puzzle. It took him a few minutes of poking at the letters before the word finally became clear: SAUSAGE.

He watched the confetti dance across his screen for a second and then barked out a laugh. He switched apps once more.

_ Fuck you, Rogers. _

And then, with a few quick taps, he set the screenshot as his new wallpaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> This fic was at times a delight and at times an epic frustration to write so I really appreciate all the feedback. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> (Now let's all go watch that Thor trailer again :D)


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